So Far From You
by Beagairbheag
Summary: A chance meeting throws Anne and Frederick together again. With their situations so changed can they look beyond the hurt and tragedy in both their lifes, and reconnect before its all too late?
1. Chapter 1

_The date today, as I begin writing this, is the 14th of May. I began writing the following story several months ago when an idea came to me and I just couldn't let it pass. I've refrained from posting however, till its finished (or near enough) and I hope this story is better for it._

_A word of warning however. This story is going to be different from my others. It'll be darker and focus on slightly more adult themes. Its not smut, but its not all cotton candy and fluff either (I love the edible kind of fluff! So difficult to get over here.)_

_Its also AU, but still in the same period, with the same characters (most of them) and, hopefully, the same ending. Anne and Frederick where still engaged back in '06 and they do meet again. Just not how Austen imagined it._

_As always any input you have would be gratefully received, especially for this piece. I'm looking for what you like and don't like, what you'd like to see more off and what I can chuck._

* * *

**_September 1814 - Bath_**

The rain was pounding down on the streets as the carriage entered the town. The cobbled streets awash with water and other detritus. The horses made good going though, and the roads where quieter than they could have been, given the time of day. It was late into the evening, a time when most of the notable inhabitants of Bath where already out at their dinners and concerts.

The carriage pulled to a stop outside 28 Gay Street just as the rain petered off, and a footman from the house hurried out to meet it. He opened the door to the vehicle and stood back, allowing the man from within to emerge into the light drizzle that continued to fall from the sky.

Captain Frederick Wentworth, who had been travelling all day from Plymouth to Bath, with only the minimal amount of stops allowed on the journey for the changing of the horses, was grateful for the opportunity to finally stretch his legs.

He stood on the paved side walk as several more footmen appeared from the house and began to unload the carriage, its driver eager to be off to find an inn for the night and stabling for his horses. He paid the man an extra coin from his purse for getting him there in one piece and in good time.

"Frederick!"

His sisters cry echoed down the street as Sophia Croft hurried from the house and right at him. It had been years since either of the them had set eyes on the other and Frederick was just as glad to see her as she was him. "Sophy," he said as she landed in his arms.

Admiral Croft stood back in the doorway of the house and allowed the siblings a chance to reacquaint before he stepped forward and received his brother in law into their home.

The house the Croft's had taken was a moderately sized place in a well known area of Bath, not too far away from the centre of Bath and its amusements. It consisted of three storeys, stretched three windows across and had small steps leading up to the doorway. It was a well proportioned size for the Crofts, and would afford them with a temporary home till they decided whether or not to settle finally in the town.

"Frederick, you must be exhausted, do come inside," Sophia said as she ushered him in, telling him that the servants would take care of his belongings and that they would see to anything else that needed done.

The interior of the house was warm and homely; the main feature of the entrance foyer being the spiral staircase that adorned it. The wooden surface gleamed in the low candle light. Frederick sent an enquiring glance at his sister.

"I liked it," she said. "There is nothing wrong with having a little bit of elegance when one has been living with the basics for the last ten years or so."

"And who was I, to deny your sister a little bit of elegance?" the Admiral remarked.

Though not a luxury house in the best area of Bath, the house that the Crofts had was comfortable and suited them. Each room was filled with little bits and pieces that they had picked up their travels, and they where now able to display.

The room that they had designated for Frederick, had obviously been decorated with him in mind. Deep, navy blues made up the bed and its hangings while the furnishings where all deep mahogany wood. Pictures of tall ships being buffeted about on the waves where hung on the walls alongside intricate tapestries from far off lands.

Frederick dropped off his travelling bag in the room and quickly changed, making his way back down the stairs for a late dinner and some conversation. The talk centred round Frederick's last command and the Crofts trip earlier in the year to visit Edward and his new wife in Shropshire.

It was later, when Sophy was regaling him with stories about acquaintances they had in the area, that he learnt that Admiral Marshall had a house in town and was currently settled there for the winter. The two had become firm friends after the incident at St Domingo and had remained so ever since.

The Admiral came from old money; the elder and less obedient son, he had ran away from his boarding school at the age of sixteen and jumped aboard the first vessel he encountered. It had happened to be a Navy ship and it was the beginning of a remarkable career.

Having been practically disowned when he ran away, Marshall had not heard from his family for many years. He never travelled to London, or any of the other fashionable places they might have been and never wrote. Given the freedom he married for love rather than advancement, choosing a wife of gentle and caring demeanour, who loved him for who he was rather than for how much money he had. It was not until after they had married that he spoke to her about his roots. It was at her prodding that he penned his first note of communication since a hastily scribbled note left on a bedside cabinet many years previous.

When word was not heard back for many months, he thought little of it. It was not until nearly a year to the day that a reply was had. Not from a family member, but from the families lawyer. It contained the information he had suspected. His father had passed several years previous and in his absence the title had gone to his younger, more obliging, brother.

It was the mans unfortunate duty of having to inform Marshall of the passing of his younger brother as well. The note also contained a plea for him to return home for they had been searching for him. His brother, though married, had left no male heir and the whole estate now belonged to him.

It had not been a instant decision to return to claim his place, but a long thought out one. His wife was happy to go along with what ever he decided, content with the life they had but willing to uproot should he want to. In the end they made the decision based not upon themselves, but to give their children a better chance in life.

The move had not been immediate. They had dispatched a letter back to the lawyer detailing their intention to return, but it was not done in haste. They waited till the seas had calmed and made the journey then, not wanting to risk the life of their young family. There was a flurry of activity on their arrival, one that lasted for many weeks and months after, and Frederick had heard little from his friend since his departure from --------. He was glad that he was within walking distance now and hoped that the chance would come when they would shortly be reacquainted with one another.

*************************

His wish came sooner than he anticipated, for it was when he was out the next morning when, turning a corner and colliding solidly with another body, he discovered it to be his friend. The shock upon the Admirals face was likely mirrored upon his own.

"Wentworth!"

"Admiral, I had heard you where in residence but I must admit that I did not expect to see you so soon and on a street corner no less," Frederick said as he accepted the other mans out stretched hand.

"Admiral," Marshall scoffed. "I demand you call me Marshall, Frederick, or I shall cut you most violently on this street that you shall find yourself the social outcast of Bath. I hold quite a bit of weight here you know."

Frederick shook his head, his friend was as he remembered him. Unwilling to put his situation in life, or his position in the Navy, above that of his true friends and people he respected. "What are you doing in Bath?"

"My sister and the Admiral have taken a house for the winter, I am currently staying with them."

"Ah, and how is Old Croft? And your sister?"

"They are well and settling themselves into life on dry land."

"Not an easy task, my friend," Marshall said to him, slapping him on the shoulder. "I suspect you shall be quitting terra firma as soon as another ship becomes available."

"Maybe not just yet," Frederick replied.

Marshall looked at him, his eyes narrowing in suspicion. "In all my years, Frederick, I have never known you to be coy about your return to the sea. What are you planning?"

Frederick merely smiled and refused to answer, wanting to keep some things to himself for the time being.

"Well," Marshall said, clapping his hands together. "Are you free this morning? I am about to head home and I know that Philippa would love to have you for lunch, and dinner as well, if she can convince you to stay."

"I am at your disposal then," Frederick said. Smiling as his friend led him away from the hustle and bustle of the main streets of Bath and away to the Admiral's private residence in one of the most fashionable areas of Bath.

*************************

Frederick took a seat in the front room whilst he waited on Marshall to finish the work he had with his steward. The room that he was sitting in was of a nice proportion; neither too large nor too small. It was decorated fashionably but tastefully with little reminders of the families travels dotted around the place. A tapestry on the wall, an ornament on the mantle.

The doorbell rang as he sat waiting and the footman admitted in a young woman into the hall. They had a short conversation with one another before he departed, leaving her in the large entrance way to await whoever it was she was here to see.

She was unremarkable, but she had his immediate attention.

It was not the colour of her dress, a pale ugly grey, nor her slight, bordering on the edge of unhealthy, stature that drew and held his attention, but they way in which she moved and held herself, the way in which her eyes took her surroundings. It was a characteristic he had thought he had purged from his mind, one that he no longer thought of, saving in his darkest times. Times that usually ended in the bottom of a bottle.

Her eyes travelled around the area she was in, taking in the numerous articles that adorned the walls. She seemed at ease and it was not until her eyes fell on him, and they locked gazes, that her own widened in shock and she visibly took a step backwards as he continued to stare, finding himself rising slowly from where he sat.

"Anne!"


	2. Chapter 2

Here's the deal. I will faithfully post a new chapter to this story every 7 to 10 days, if you guys continue to tell me what you think about it. Fair deal?

Things might move a little slowly in places with this piece, but I feel that I need to build the story up properly and look at it from several different angles, especially from Frederick and Anne's point of view.

* * *

_**September 1814 - Bath**_

She was so changed.

Had he not have spoken, had she of not been stopped in the hallway for a period of time. He would have passed her in the street and been totally unaware.

He opened his mouth to speak, to say what he hadn't the slightest idea, but at that moment there was a cry heard from the top of the stairs and a small child, a boy around the age of five, came hurtling down them and threw himself at her legs. He watched in amazement as she bent down to the child and spoke with him.

"What is the matter, Robert?" She asked, pulling a handkerchief from her pelisse and dabbing at the boys face. He continued to blabber and she waited patiently till he had talked himself out, then spoke clearly and calmly to him.

"There are no monsters waiting for you under your bed, your brother was teasing you." Saying this, she looked up at the stairs, an elder boy and girl both where both making their way down. "Hugo should have learnt by now that telling tales is not how a young man should behave," she said, directing her words at the boy who, upon reaching the foot of the stairs, did little to acknowledge her words. "And you, Robert," she said, speaking to the child in front of her. "Should have learnt that your brother does not always tell you the truth. Next time he tells you something, think about it. If it sounds silly, then it most likely is. Ok?"

The little boy nodded. "An you'll check there are none?" Robert asked. The look on his face indicated that he trusted what she said, but he was still worried about the words his elder brother had said to him.

"I shall carry out a thorough check, but only if you help me." Anne said to him. Robert nodded his acceptance of this and grasped Anne's hand.

She avoided Fredericks gaze successfully while she waited for the other two to gather their coats. Another woman, dressed in the same style but with more colour, stood at the top of the stairs, a young child in her arms.

"Ah, Maria. Bring him down," Marshall said when, coming out of his study, he noticed her. "Frederick, I'd like you to meet your namesake." And the child was presented to him. He had had little experience with young children this age, the last time being just before Marshall had left -------- when child in his arms had been a little more than a few months old and was now bordering on the age of three. Frederick could not help a small sideways glance towards Anne, for it really was her, and he thought he could make out the smallest of smiles.

"I trust the children where no hassle this morning, Maria"

"No trouble at all sir," the woman curtseyed.

"Then I hope you would consider making this a permanent arrangement then, Miss Anne." Marshall said, turning to the other woman standing in the hallway.

"If Lord Brockhurst agrees to it, then I would have no objections, Admiral."

So quiet, Frederick thought. Her voice has lost all animation and strength.

"Well then," Marshall said joyfully, clapping his hands together. "I look forward to seeing you all next week. Master Hugo, Master Robert and Miss Diana." He said, giving each of them a short bow. "Miss Anne. Safe, and dry journey home."

"Thank you, Admiral."

And she was gone.

Frederick stood in the entrance way staring at the door as though he could see through it and remained so for a time after the small party had left. It was a small, wet hand smacking against the side of his face that broke his revere and brought him back to the present. Marshall was laughing.

"Yup," he said as he took the child from Frederick's arms and handed him back to the nanny. "Just like his name sake. Drink?"

"Who where they?" Frederick enquired, following his friend from the hallway into his study.

"The children?" Marshall asked. Frederick nodded. "They where Lord Brockhurst's children. Lady Brockhurst and my wife are cousins, and since our return to fortune and importance, we have been readmitted into their good graces."

"And the woman with them?"

"Miss Anne? Their governess."

"Governess!" Frederick exclaimed, looking back towards the door again.

"You sound shocked to hear that Frederick, but children do often have governess's."

"How long has she worked for them?"

Marshall observed him, pausing as he went to sit down. "You are asking a lot of questions, my friend."

"Humour me, please."

"Fine. She has been with them about six months I believe and they are happy with the work she is providing. The two youngest especially, have benefited from her tutorage. Hugo, I fear, is beyond all help and will turn out exactly like his father. The poor thing."

"And you know nothing of her situation before she came to work for them?" Frederick asked as he took a seat opposite.

"Frederick, I do not vet my relations employees. Now, tell me why you are so interested in that woman. It sounds as though you know her."

"Knew." Frederick said instantly. He accepted the glass of port that was offered to him and took a drink. "I knew her once."

Marshall shot a knowing glance, "Ah" he said, "A lady friend."

Frederick silenced him with a glare and Marshall tipped his glass in apology. "My mistake."

Frederick sipped his drink thoughtfully. "Have you ever heard of a family named, Elliot?"

"Elliot?" Marshall thought for a moment. "No," he said finally. "I don't think I have."

Frederick frowned. "Should I have?" the Admiral asked. As Frederick stood suddenly and began to pace the floor, Marshall observed that he had never seen his friend so out of sorts. And all over one short encounter with a woman.

"I would have expected, nay predicted it. They where a very prominent family, especially in social circles and I know that they often visited Bath." He looked thoughtful. "What about in London? You must have run into an Elliot in London."

It was now Marshall's turn to look thoughtful. "I have heard some stories about a Sir Elliot," he said finally. "A young upstart of a man who now has as much money as he does sense; very little. All gambled and drank away within the two years since he acquired it."

Anne had told him once that since she had no brother and no close male relative that her fathers title would pass to a distant cousin, whom she had never met before. Was this that man? If is was it begged the question; what had happened to Sir Walter? And why was this new Baronet not doing his duty by his family?

"Do you know if the library holds an archive of newspapers?" Frederick asked.

Marshall regarded him. He opened his mouth to say something but thought better of it. Frederick would tell him all he needed, and wanted to know when he was ready to do so. It was obviously important to him to find out if anything had befallen the Elliot's and the woman. He had never seen Frederick so rocked by a meeting, and a chance one at that, by the looks of it, where not one word was exchanged between the parties in question. It made the Admiral curious.

"I'm afraid I do not venture into the local library often Frederick, I have quite a collection of my own to work my way through."

Frederick let out a huff of air. "You said you walked in the highest circles?" he queried.

"High enough to make my head spin and my lungs gasp for oxygen."

He stood, smiling. "Take me to the biggest gossip whore you know."

"Frederick," the Admiral cried mockingly before smiling mischievously. "I know just the person."

*************************

Frederick had never before just walked into a party that he was not invited to, but it seemed as though it was a weekly habit to Admiral Marshall. "They wont mind," he had said as they ascended the stairs to the front door, and neither they did.

Marshall, and Frederick by default, where welcomed with open arms and treated to the best society that Bath had to offer. He played along with them, answered their ridiculous questions the best he could without appearing overly sarcastic and somehow managed to detach himself politely from all the single ladies within the room without offending their sensibilities, or their fathers.

It was over an hour after they had entered the fashionable house in Laura Place, that Frederick was finally able to find himself sitting next to the Admiral and an old woman. From Frederick's observations she was obviously the matriarch of the gathering, keeping everyone in check and garnered a certain amount of respect from those around her. Nearly everyone had come and sat beside her during the time he had been there. She had never once been alone.

"This was the man I was telling you about," Marshall said as Frederick took a stand beside him. "Saved me life on more than one occasion. May I present Captain Frederick Wentworth to you, ma'am."

The lady held out a withered hand and Frederick took it gently, hiding his surprise at the strength in which she gripped his. He bowed deeply.

"Captain, this is Lady Victoria Winchester."

"A pleasure ma'am."

She smiled at him. "I told you he was charmer, ma'am." Admiral Marshall said as he observed the Lady's delight in Frederick taking an interest in her.

"Admiral Marshall said you have a request of me?" she enquired as he took a seat next to her.

"I do ma'am," he paused. "Do you have any knowledge of a family by the name of Elliot?"

"Your are going to have to be a little more specific my lad, I know a fair few families by that name."

"This one consisted of a Baronet by the name of Sir Walter and his three daughters. They lived in the county of Somerset in a place called,"

"Kellynch," she said, nodding.

"Yes ma'am."

She shook her head. "Such a tragedy, and just after the wedding day."

"Wedding?" he echoed, edging closer.

She lent towards him and patted his arm. "You will call on me tomorrow morning, eleven sharp, and I will tell you all I know." Lady Winchester then signalled to someone standing by the door and a sprightly young man entered the room and held out his arm to her. Taking it, she stood made as if to leave, but not before she turned to Frederick once more. "I look forward to your visit, Captain. Don't be late."


	3. Chapter 3

_**Blendedhappymeal** - Very perceptive. And I hate to say it, but the angst is only going to get worse before it gets better._

_**natural buff buff** - Other stories are all progressing…slowly. FFT has gone head first into a wall but RTL is getting there. I'm trying to put out longer chapters to get the story closer to an ending._

_**smallrose** - It might :0) You get to see Anne in this chapter going over some of the stuff that's happened, and she'll reveal more later. Oh, and a happy ending…hmmmm…cant promise anything._

_Review love to everyone! Especially those who have this story on alerts and have yet to review. There must have been something you liked to put it on alert, tell me about it. I don't bite…honest!_

_Oh, and if I manage to straighten out a few more chapters and make them publishable, I will update more often. 7-10 days is just my safety net._

* * *

**September 1814 - Bath**

Anne knew not how they made it back to Lord Brockhurst's house, she had not so much a recollection of a moment in time or passing of an event on the way home, since her eyes had met his in astonishment in Admiral Marshall's hallway.

She handed the children off to the nanny and the child nurse when she arrived at their destination and after promising Robert that she would be by after tea to check all the nooks and crannies in his room for monsters, hurried away to her own small but perfectly comfortable and homely room shortly after.

Shutting the door behind her Anne lent back against it and sank to the floor. Her knees had been quaking since the initial shock had worn off, and the embarrassment and indignation of the circumstance he found her in had left her shaken.

She doubted she would ever know but Anne longed to know his feelings at their surprise meeting and of her situation, for he must know all about it by now. There was no doubt that although the incident had occurred several years previous, that it was still talked about in some circles, especially those that encompassed her elder sister.

Elizabeth left a trail of talk and gossip wherever she went and the devastating accident that had occurred within days of her most lavish wedding was often brought up as a topic of after dinner conversation by those in her presence and often by Elizabeth herself.

Anne felt the tears well. Over four years had passed and yet she still could not look back and think over the entire occasion without getting emotional in some shape or form.

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**_February 1810 - London._**

_The day had started out like any other._

_The family had woken early, breakfasted and where ready for a days worth of travelling. Lady Russell's carriage pulled up in front of the house in London, a fashionable four storey in the burgh of --------, and they now made to depart. The group would consist of Sir Walter, his second youngest daughter and the lady herself._

_Anna had been about to step into the carriage when she was halted by the delivery of a letter that had just that moment arrived. From her younger sister Mary, it contained an urgent summons. Mary, it seemed, required her elder sisters help with a matter of great importance and would be happy to see her home in a day or two._

_The Baronet, not wanting to delay their departure any further had ordered Anne's travelling trunks to be removed from the carriage and taken back into the house to be delivered later to the lodgings of the Musgrove family._

_Anne watched them go, lamenting the fact that she would be stuck in town for another few days when she would much rather be making her way home to Kellynch. She would later come to be grateful that she was not in the carriage on that fateful journey home._

_Sighing, she watched as one of the footmen hailed a chair for her, loaded her belongings into their rightful place and sent her on her way. Being infrequent guests to London, the Musgroves did not own their own house but choose to rent some stylish apartments whenever they where in town. That was where Charles and Mary where currently residing._

_The entire Elliot family, along with Lady Russell, had been in London for several months now overseeing the preparations for the marriage of Miss Elizabeth Elliot to Lord Chester Burnley._

_During the previous season Elizabeth, and her father, had suffered a severe disappointment from Mr William Walter Elliot, the man whom Elizabeth had always believed she would one day marry and who was destined to become the head of the Elliot family. You can imagine her astonishment then, when they had returned to London from Kellynch, to find him already married and to a woman of little consequence no less._

_After several weeks of tears, temper tantrums and general mopping around, Elizabeth had decided to smite him in the only way she thought possible - to marry and to someone of a higher social class with more money than he could have ever given her._

_Lord Chester Burnley had fitted that description entirely._

_He was a man who was wholly concerned about what was fashionable, and it was during that season that it was seen to be fashionable to have a beautiful lady upon one's arm in either the capacity of a fiancé or wife, and since he had neither, he set out to find one as soon as possible._

_It was pure providence that bought them together. They where introduced by a mutual acquaintance and where instantly gratified with one another. She was what he was looking for, while he met her high standards of fashion and social standing, and with that they started a respectable length of courtship after which he proposed. She accepted._

_With the season drawing to a close, neither of them wanted to hold a wedding then, not with everyone departing town and a date was set for the first week of the forth coming season._

_From the way they arranged it, it was due to be the opening event of the season and everyone was in anticipation of it for many months. Those lucky enough to gain invitations considered themselves to be among the crème de la crème of the London society and privileged to witness such an event._

_Mary, who herself got married in the mean time, was a little put out that her own fray into married life was not given as much attention that she felt that it deserved compared to Elizabeth's. She consoled herself with the realisation that she was making it to the alter before either of her elder sisters and although the youngest, would be joined in holy matrimony first. Which was something that increased her self importance._

_Elizabeth's wedding had been extravagant, over the top and, to Anne at least, an occasion where the guests - including the bride and the groom - where more concerned about how the room and each other looked, rather than the vows that they where taking, but her sister seemed happy and that at least made Anne glad._

_There was a lot of flourish; a lot of theatrics but, finally, the new Lord and Lady Chester Burnley emerged from the church arm in arm and into the awaiting carriage that took them to the wedding breakfast. The said event being held at the brides future place of residence._

_Everything had gone to plan and the couple had left as planned the next day on their month long honeymoon to the coastal towns of the south west of England. Anne saw his sister off and wished them both a happy trip._

_It had been hard for her then. She was the only one out of her sisters to remain unmarried and the only one still staying under her fathers roof. How it might have all been different, she had thought. She might have been the first to be situated in marital bliss. Shaking her head to rid herself of those thoughts, there was no point in dwelling on the past, she had made her way back into the house and back into the existence that she knew._

_She had spent the remainder of her time in London with her father and Lady Russell, her godmothers presence being a welcomed addition to the household on many occasions till they where due to travel back to Kellynch and Anne was summoned to stay a little while longer by her younger sister._

_Mary, who had always been quick to take advantage of any situation that would contrive the attention of those around her, had woken that morning to find herself quite ill and had required the company of her sister whilst she convalesced. It was not known at the time, though suspected by Anne upon the continuation of her sisters systems, but the new Mrs Musgrove had actually been in the early stages of pregnancy._

_Anne had been sat in the breakfast room with Charles and his father when the express had arrived and never in her life would she forget those three resounding thumps on the outer door that echoed throughout the house. It alerted them all. Not only to the visitor requesting entry but to the prospect that something might be wrong. Expresses did not often contain joyful salutations._

_As the footman answered the door Anne returned her breakfast to her plate and pushed it away from her. She had a very bad feeling in the pit of her stomach that the news that was about to be relayed momentarily would effect them all greatly._

*************************

She shuddered at the memory.

Drawing herself from the floor, and absently wiping at the tears that had escaped during her recent recollection, she walked over to her bed and knelt down beside it. She drew out a small wooden box from its hiding place and opened it, spilling the contents carefully on the bed.

Letters from her past and present mixed. Momentos of days, events and trips merged into one. Drawings and likeness' formed a collage of colour as they lay littered over the covers. She picked up a small watercolour portrait of her mother and stared fondly at it.

She remembered her mother sitting for a more formal portrait and the artist doing this one especially for Anne who had sat demurely at her mothers side and read to her from one of her favourite books for the whole time the artist was making his sketches.

Glancing at the small clock on the mantle above the fire, she took note of the time and began to pack up her belongings again, making sure not to miss anything. She fixed her hair in the small mirror on the dressing table before leaving the room and making her way downstairs to the children's room to escort them to lunch and then to afternoon lessons.

Such was her role as their governess.


	4. Chapter 4

_I'm trying not to make you all wait too long for the next chapter but I don't think it would be a good idea to post it all at once (though I think some of you wouldn't mind that). I hope to keep you all happy though with a steady posting speed._

_There may be a slight delay in a fortnights time however, as I have some essays due in then and really need to give them some of the attention they require. I'm considering banning access to ffnet just so I can get them done._

_I spend way too much time here._

_Someone asked about Lady Russells money. As I see it, any money that she did have would have gone to her husband upon their marriage and any money she had after would have been in agreement with whoever took over his title when he died. So she really would not have had any of her own, but be kept as according to the agreement in his will. Does that make sense?_

* * *

Frederick was early.

The clock in the great marble floored hallway chimed a quarter too when he was admitted into the house by the footman and made to sit and wait in one of the velvet covered chairs set out especially for the occasion. It was when the clocked chimed again to signal the coming of the hour that the doors to the front sitting room where opened and he was admitted inside.

Lady Victoria Winchester sat on an elegant, but non obtrusive, settee to his left with the winter sun to her back, and although it was not that cold outside, the fire glowed warmly and provided a comfortable heat.

Frederick took his position behind the footman who announced him, before setting up to the Lady and placing himself within her reaches. As he had done last night, he bowed deeply and thanked her for seeing him this morning. She looked up at him then and raised her hand. He took it within his own and bestowed it with a kiss.

"Are you always this charming?" she asked, tugging a little on his hand so that he took the seat beside her, "Or is it that you just wish the information I have."

"I would like to think it is a little of both," Frederick replied in an easy manner, and she laughed.

"I shall be glad of your company whilst we are both in Bath," she said before ringing for refreshments. "It may not look like it my boy, but I have been rushed off my feet this morning by requests and visits. It seems that everyone in town wishes to know more about the handsome navel captain that I sat with last night."

"I guess I should be flattered," he told her honestly, his voice carrying a tone that suggested he was not at all pleased nor comforted by all the attention she said he had received.

"Do not worry," she said, patting his arm gently as a fresh pot of tea and a plate of cakes was brought in. "I told them no more than they might hear from someone else. I must warn you though, that there were a lot of mothers interested in your status. No doubt they are calling in at Admiral Marshalls as we speak, hoping to catch a glimpse of you."

"Then I am even more glad to be here!"

"Come now Captain Wentworth, you can not tell me that you do not know how to effectively deal with a matchmaker who would have you for her own daughter. Something about you tells me that it is a…routine you are used too."

He bowed his head then, a faint blush high upon his cheeks. He was enjoying their conversation more than he thought he would. The Lady Winchesters appearance betrayed a sharp, intelligent mind quick to find humour and equal ground in a conversation.

"I will admit to my fair share of run ins with some very insistent mothers, and a fair few fathers but marriage has not been something I have sought these past years."

"Because you have had your heart broken," she said simply. He stared at her and opened his mouth as though to speak, but not words where issued. "You hide it well, but there is a look in your eyes that I know only too well. She was someone very special to you." The Lady stated, not questioned.

"She was," he found himself answering. Uncomfortable by the sudden change from light hearted banter they had had only a few moments ago, Frederick found himself on his feet and pacing about the room. He tried to give off the impression that he was relaxed and calm but believed he failed.

"She is the reason you are interested in the Elliot's tale," Lady Winchester said.

He found himself drawn back to her and took a seat on the settee opposite. "I…saw her again, only yesterday, and not in the situation…I never imagined I would see her again and to she her, so changed, so altered from eight years ago…" he trailed off.

"You wanted to know how she had gone from the woman you loved, to what she is now."

"Yes," he said quietly.

The old Lady pondered for a moment. "I remember Sir Walter," she said. "A man always so eager to please if it increased his self importance in any way. I remember the three girls, though the youngest I never saw very much of and the eldest was in my company far too much." she shook her head slightly. "No, if you fell for any of them it must have been Anne."

Frederick snapped his eyes to hers and found her smiling widely at him. "If it had been Elizabeth Elliot, or Lady Elizabeth Burnley as she is now known, I would of found someway to eject you from the house at my earliest convenience. I could not stand that girl before she got married and, to put it simply, she has become even worse now that she is married. But you did not come to hear about her, did you? No, but her wedding provides a base for the sorry tale."

"When did she marry?" he found himself asking.

"Early in the year 1810, not long after her youngest sister if I remember correctly," shook her head and made a disapproving sound. "Such a, a performance. Weddings are meant to be about the joining of a man to the woman he loves, not the thread count of the table covers. It was a mockery of the whole sanctities of marriage."

Frederick found himself nodding. It sounded just like the Miss Elizabeth Elliot he remembered.

"The family had been in town for a month or so before the wedding but they decided to travel home shortly after it. No doubt the wedding had severely depleted the Baronets funds and he wished to run back to his house in the country where he could live in relative luxury without having to spend a penny on anyone else." She shook her head again. "I hate to speak ill of the dead but I really could not stand that man and all his airs."

"Dead?"

"The roads where icy on the journey home and the driver lost control of the carriage at a bend on the road. Only the footmen managed to jump to safety. The fall killed the driver and the Baronet as well as a Lady who was travelling with them."

"Lady Russell," he breathed.

This peaked the Lady's interest. "You where acquainted?"

"I was in her company for a short time."

"Of course," she said, nodding, "If you where acquainted with Miss Anne then you must have known Lady Russell. Poor thing. It is a stroke of luck however, that your Anne was not among the casualties."

"Anne?"

"She had been due to travel with them but as they where due to set off a letter from her younger sister arrived and delayed her departure, otherwise you would not have been sitting here talking to me today because she simply would not have been alive."

If he had been asked at that moment to describe how he felt, the best Frederick would have been able to come up with would have been numb. Anne had almost suffered from the same fate, and he would not have known. He might have gone through the rest of his life resenting a ghost and wondering what had happened to her; had she married? Was she settled? Never would his thoughts had drifted to an early death.

Frederick shook his head, trying to get back to his original thoughts, he was not really comprehending the situation. "I don't understand. Surely, even after the Baronet's death, there would have been some provision for Anne. Some money that she was entitled too?"

"As is customary within the upper-class," Lady Winchester agreed with him. "And I am sure that was meant to be the case, except that upon his death it was discovered that the Baronet had more debt than originally thought and almost all of his money went towards paying them off."

"What about Lady Russell? Or the new Baronet? Surely they must have done something."

He was getting agitated. He simply couldn't believe that Anne had fallen on such hard times, that there was no one to offer her anything.

"It is my understanding that she has five thousand in trust from Lady Russell but there are conditions attached and she meets neither at the moment; she is not married nor thirty five years old. As for the new Baronet, Sir William, the less she has to do with him the better. The man is barely keeping a hold upon his estate. I would not be surprised to hear of him being in debtors jail by the end of the year."

"What about other family?"

Lady Winchester looked at him, hard. "You have met the elder sister. Helping Anne would not benefit her in anyway and there would be the added disadvantage of having the embarrassment of a sister in such a state. I have heard that she lived with her younger sister for a time but if you have seen her in Bath, then I guess that is no longer the case." He opened his mouth to speak. "I would not even bother asking about Sir William. There is no money to spare there."

"So they've just cast her off?"

The Lady sighed. "Perhaps you should speak with her," she suggested. "I only know the details that travel in the * circles. There might be more to the story that only see can tell you."

He shook his head. "We did not part on good terms and with her present circumstances, I do not see how it would be possible."

"You said you saw her yesterday," she queried. "Surely you must have been within communication distance." She grabbed his hand. "Do not let this chance pass you by. Even if you only mend the broken bridges between the two of you, you will feel better for it in the long run."

Frederick wondered whether she was speaking from experience. There was something in her tone and the way she subtly pleaded with him that suggested to him that she was and found himself agreeing with her.

His failed, missed, chance at love ever after had been a weight around his neck for many a year now. It had grown heavier each passing year with pride, hurt, anger and grief all weighting him down. He still caught himself, on occasion, wondering what Anne would have thought of that, whether she would have liked this and what she would have said at certain moments. He would mentally berate himself instantly and perhaps physically with a dram or two, or more but it did little to stop it. Even eight years later on and she was still on his mind. He had even fooled himself into believing that she was no longer in his heart as well. It was a denial he lived with easily.

Perhaps it really was time to put it all behind him and move on.


	5. Chapter 5

_It is amazing how a random idea, born from one line of text, can quickly turn into a story idea and then a plot. This chapter has spawned a completely new story to be shelved for a later date. It's a really good, interesting idea as well, even if I do say so myself._

_But enough on that._

_Longest chapter of them all so far!_

_Oh, and Mr Elliot is the least of Anne's problems…I'm not even sure if he'll feature._

* * *

**September 1814 - Bath**

Frederick did not have to wait long for his chance to meet with Anne and put the past firmly behind him. If such a thing was even possible.

Like their first meeting, if it can be described as such, this one was purely by chance. His sister and Admiral, keen to take advantage of the clear skies, had put forward the idea of a walk about the park after midmorning tea and he was happy to oblige them.

The particular park they had chosen to take a jaunt around contained a fairly large lake in the middle as well as gravel pathways lined with flowers and other native shrubbery which made it popular with people of all ages. The benches placed strategically around provided a good place to sit, talk and watch the world go by.

He did not see her at first. He was still not used to the idea that she was now caring for children that where not her own; their own, and had skimmed his gaze past the small group sat picnicking on the grass fifty yards in front of them, nearer to the lake.

It was after Sophy suggested a small walk to check out a nearby memorial, that Frederick really began focusing on those around him. His gaze was instantly drawn back to the woman with the three children as the two boys ran off down to the lakeside.

It was her.

She was in a similar dress from the one he had seen her wearing yesterday, the same bland colour and strict appearance. There was a little more life in her today, he thought, as he watched her pull out a book from the bag she carried and set it on her lap, the child, a young girl aged about five, drew closer and seemed to be enthralled by what she was being told.

He must have sat there for some time just watching her and trying to pick out the Anne he knew. Anne from the past. He thought he saw glimpses of her, just small ones, as she read and answered questions from her young charge while at the same time keeping a watchful eye on the children by the water.

As Anne closed the book she had been reading from, put it back in the bag and pulled out a small sheet of papers and pencils and handed them over to the child, he made up his mind and decided to approach her.

He could tell the moment she sensed his presence behind her, her body tensed and she turned, about to say something to whoever it was that was approaching her when she lighted upon the navel jacket and then, looking higher, his face.

She scrambled to her feet and attempted to smooth some of the creases out of her dress before dropping to a curtsy. "Captain Wentworth."

"Miss Elliot."

Their meeting was embarrassing, uncomfortable and everything it should have been.

They stood in silence for a good time after their first initial contact, he staring out into the surroundings and her at the ground beneath their feet before he cleared his throat. "How have you been Miss Elliot?"

"I am well, thank you Captain."

He bit his lip. "I…I am sorry to hear about your father Miss Elliot, and Lady Russell. You have my sympathies."

"Thank you," she whispered, her eyes closing involuntary against the sting of tears.

So he knew, just as she thought he might. She briefly wondered who had told him and whether they had had a laugh together about it. He had made it perfectly clear on many occasions that he had not thought well of Lady Russell and she could only begin to imagine what his thoughts where on her father. Perhaps he had rejoiced.

"I hear your elder sister is married," he said.

"Yes. She is."

He nodded, unsure of how to progress the conversation further.

He was saved from speaking any more at that moment by the inclusion into their party of his sister and Admiral Croft.

"Hiding a young woman from us, eh Frederick. It generally means something's going on," the Admiral joked. If either the Admiral or Mrs Croft saw the matching spots of red that coloured either of Anne's or Frederick's cheeks they failed to mention it. Frederick cleared his throat.

"Sophia, Admiral Croft. This is Miss Anne Elliot. She used to live in Kellynch near to where Edward had the curacy of Monkford."

"You knew Edward," Sophia Croft said, his face brightening at the mention of her other brother. "Have you heard that he is recently married?"

Anne shook her head. "I am afraid I did not know Mrs Croft, but please, extent my best wishes to him and his new wife next time you write to him." She had been a great admirer of Edward Wentworth when he had been in the parish and they had had many a good conversation both before, during and after his brother had been in the picture.

"I will, thank you." Sophy said, her eyes bright and open. "My dear," she said, turning to her husband. "Did we not look at renting a property at Kellynch?"

The Admiral nodded. "The manor house I believe. The lawyer seemed to be in a rush to find someone, but the price was too high even for such a lovely house. Do you know which house we are speaking about Miss Elliot?"

Frederick did not miss the change in pallor of Anne's face as the Admiral had been speaking and felt a twinge in his chest at his brother in laws words but could do nothing to stop them.

"It is certainly a lovely house," Anne said, her voice catching ever so slightly. "But not worth the price I think."

"A charming area," Sophy piped in, also noticing the slight change in the young woman she had just been introduced too. "Do you reside in Bath Miss Elliot, or are you merely here for the season?"

"I am employed by the Brockhurst's as a governess" she replied, with a sideways glance at Captain Wentworth. "They have a house here that they spend the season at."

"Then you get to enjoy the delights that Bath has to offer," the Admiral said.

Anne smiled ruefully. "Bath is not my ideal location, Admiral Croft, I go where the family go."

"Your mother," Frederick said quietly, but not quietly enough that it was not heard by all in the group.

She nodded at him before turning to the Crofts. "When my mother was ill I was sent to school in Bath and did not enjoy it, and when she died I was removed here permanently. It was not one of the better parts of my childhood."

"I'm sorry to here that Miss Elliot," the Admiral said, "And I'm sorry if I spoke out of turn."

Anne laid a hand on his arm. "You where not to know, and I am learning to cope and even finding some things to make my stay in Bath enjoyable. The walks around here a very scenic and I enjoy an afternoon just wondering about. And the children," Anne said, her eyes flickering towards the two boys still down by the bank of the lake. "They ensure I never have a dull moment."

"I should think not," Mrs Croft replied, her gaze falling on the child at their feet who was looking up at them curiously.

"Admiral, Mrs Croft. Captain Wentworth," Anne said, turning to each of them in turn. "May I present Lady Diana Brockhurst" Diana stood and curtseyed to each of them in turn before fixing her gaze upon Frederick.

"I saw you yesterday," she said with all the innocence that a child possesses. "You where at Uncle Marshall's house."

He knelt down to the child's height. "I was. Your Uncle Marshall and I are old friends."

Her face seemed to light up at this.

"Admiral Marshall has been keeping the children entertained about his adventures on the open seas," Anne explained. "Take care Captain. It is a great past time of theirs and they will hound you for hours with questions and requests for stories. Perhaps a tale from your days as Captain of the Laconia."

Frederick stared at her and stood slowly. The Laconia was well after the time they had parted. "The Laconia," he repeated, wanting to make sure that was what he had heard and that it was not just his ears playing a trick on him.

"Yes. You Captained her, did you not?"

"I did. I am merely wondering how you would know." Frederick ignored the warning looks that Sophy was sending him for questioning and instead focused on the rosy blush that was rapidly infusing Anne's cheeks.

"I spent many an afternoon traversing the navy lists, Captain. They always had something to say on the Laconia and her crew."

Frederick turned to Anne and opened his mouth to speak when everything happened.

He heard her cry out a mere second before he heard the splash. "Robert!"

Turning towards the lake he quickly saw the commotion and dashed to the lakeside, Anne following behind closely, running as quickly as her skirts allowed her.

Frederick felt the cold of the water seep through his trousers before he had even realised he had stepped into the lake. In a short space of time the small child had managed to get several meters away from the edge and Frederick quickly found himself thigh deep in the water. Sticking his hands into the water he dragged the child out from under murky fluid and held him high. Tilting them slightly to the side Frederick let the child cough up some of the water he had ingested.

It was then that he noticed he was not alone.

Anne was right there next to him, her hands held out to take the child from him. Being considerably shorter than him the water was further up her body and swirling round her waist, the layers of her dress floating in her wake.

He handed the boy to her before helping her turn. His hand falling naturally around her waist.

"Hugo. Why on earth did you push your brother in?" she said angrily, gathering the small shaking boy closer to her chest and allowing Frederick to guide her safely to the shore. "You know he can not swim yet."

"He would not share his boat," was the only answer she received.

Frederick had never seen Anne angry.

Sad, happy, embarrassed, even shocked but never angry and he quickly came to the conclusion that he was very lucky to have never been an object for her anger. Her eyes flashed and her face darkened to almost beyond recognisable. She opened her mouth several times to say something but seemed unable to speak.

The seven year old child that had stood defiantly against her seemed to wilt a little under her gaze and Frederick thought that he had maybe pushed the line a little far this time and that a serious punishment was perhaps in about to be doled out. He realised, after she managed to gather her wits and spoke, that he was right.

"We will discuss this at home, with your father."

The life seemed to drain from the Hugo's face as he took in her words and he shook his head venomously. "Please Miss Anne, please. I'll do anything. Please don't tell father."

"You have to learn that your actions have consequences. What if no one had heard Robert fall in? Your brother might have been dead by now and you would have been responsible, and all over a toy boat."

Having reached the side of the lake Frederick placed his hands on her waist and lifted her, too easily, onto the bank and into the waiting arms of his sister who held the picnic blanket out to the younger woman.

Together they wrapped the child up so thoroughly that only the top of his head could be seen poking out the top. The Admiral stood nearby with Diana, her hand firmly encased in his larger one and taking comfort from him. Frederick joined them on the bank and used the Admiral as a leaning post as he removed his boats and the water that had accumulated in them.

"No fish today, Frederick?" the Admiral asked, trying to lighten the mood.

He shook her head. "Not today."

"There," his sister said when they had finished. "I bet all he needs now is a hot bath and some pudding."

"Pudding?" a small voice could be heard saying as Robert lifted her head from where it had been resting and momentarily ceased his soft cries.

"Oh yes," Mrs Croft said, with a small wink in Anne's direction. "Some nice hot pudding to warm you from the inside."

The boy turned his head so that he was looking at Anne, "Can I have some pudding?" he asked, his face still marked with dirt and tears but all the effects of the event that had just occurred seemed to have melted from his face. "Please?" he added when she raised an eyebrow at him.

"I shall what Cook can do but only after you have had a bath and are wrapped up in bed, deal?" And he began nodding enthusiastically before snuggling up to her once again.

"I insist you allow us to escort you home," Sophia was saying as she laid an arm around Anne's shoulders. "We can call for a cab."

"You are too kind Mrs Croft," Anne said as she allowed herself to be steered up a gravel path, "But the house is just along the road, barely five minutes away. It would be no trouble for me to walk it."

"If you are sure," Sophia said, fixing her with a stare that remind her so much of Frederick. Seeing that she was set about this, and telling the truth she said, "Then we shall walk you home."

"But, Captain Wentworth," Anne began.

"A little water will not kill him, so don't fret Miss Anne," the Admiral chipped in. "He would have had a terribly short career in the navy if he had. Did he ever tell you about his first posting? Poor lad could not even get out of port without taking a tumble over the edge."


	6. Chapter 6

_Don't you just love it when a story flows from your fingers and onto the page?_

_Parts of this just seem to be writing themselves…I just wish it wouldn't be at five in the morning. I do need to get some sleep once in a while._

_Smallrose - No! lol. Sorry but each chapter seems to teeter out at around 2000 words and they just don't mesh well when you try to fit two together._

_I've decided to take part in NaNoWriMo this year (despite starting two days late). That combined with the two essays and two presentations I have to write may see me going back to my original posting schedule for awhile with this story. Its likely to be finished by the end of the year though._

_Oh and I've started a Persuasion forum. Feel free to post what you like as long as its connected in some way to the book._

* * *

"Captain Wentworth. I was not expecting you today," she said as he stalked into the front sitting room. She was surprised to see him but he was a refreshing change from the usual morning visits she usually had to deal with and she truly took delight in being in his company that she did not have the heart to make him wait or come back at another time.

He made a tense bow to her and declined the proffered seat.

"It did not work," he said simply and began to pace.

"What did not work?" she asked, watching his stalk back and forth. His shoulders where bunched and tense, and there seemed to be a war going on in his head that transferred so easily onto the expressions on his face.

He ignored her question, instead he said, "I spoke with her. She had taken the children to the lake to give them a lesson and I was there with my sister and the Admiral. She spoke, I told her of my sympathies for her family and she asked how I had fared with the Laconia."

"You spoke with Anne," the Lady concluded. If he heard her he gave no indication preferring to continue on with his own dialogue.

"The Laconia! She actually blushed when I asked how she knew I had been given that ship and mumbled something about navy lists. I introduced her to my sister and the Admiral and they immediately fell into conversation as though they where old friends. She then introduced us to one of the children but her attention was caught half way through and the next thing I know, I am thigh deep in water rescuing one of them from the lake."

"Lord Brockhurst's son." She had heard the story once already this morning but did not realise it was her very own Captain Wentworth in the hero's role.

"And she was right there next to me, up to her waist in water," a small smile flirted across his face as drifted off on a distance memory. "She never was afraid of getting into situations like that."

"What happened after that?" the Lady prompted.

"Huh, oh we travelled back to the Lord's residence and a doctor was sent for, for the child. She could not stop apologising, though she had nothing to be sorry for. Sophy says she clearly saw the older child push his brother in. We where seen by the Lord when he returned and he thanked us, invited us to dinner and in that whole time I did not speak to her once we entered the room with Brockhurst but in my mind, in my mind she was there with us, speaking out, and I have been unable to remove her from my thoughts every since. She is there constantly."

He continued his pacing, running a hand over his face and muttering to himself.

Lady Winchester left him to it. She could see that he was deeply…agitated by the events that had occurred and was perhaps fighting against feelings he thought he should not longer have.

"My sister has invited her for tea," he eventually said, taking a seat. He slumped in the chair as though all the energy had been drained from him leaving nothing but a shell.

Frederick thought back to the day before.

*************************

_The house, they where soon to discover, was very like its master - large and intimidating. It held none of the warmth and comfort that both his sisters and Admiral Marshalls did, but was decked out in all the latest fashions and without a singular item of personal value to be seen apart from the large ornate portraits that hung high on the walls._

_They had been instantly ushered inside by a shocked young doorman who Anne immediately sent off to find the housekeeper and to arrange a bath to be drawn up for Robert. The poor child had taken to shivering slightly within her arms._

_She directed them into the front sitting room before escorting her charges up the stairs, but not before promising to be down again as soon as she could and with a change of clothes for Frederick who himself was beginning to feel the cold._

*************************

"What is your opinion of Lord Brockhurst?" Frederick asked the Lady, breaking from his memories.

"Probably a lot more favourable had be not been related to me," was the Lady's answer.

Frederick sat up straighter. "Related?"

"He is my cousins son. The youngest of four children and the only boy." She sniffed loudly, her feelings of the man in question clear for all to see. "I believe the word spoilt was invented just for him. Did you meet him?"

"I did."

*************************

_They had not been in the house above ten minutes when they heard the unmistakable sound of the front door opening again and a new presence being let into the house. This one commanded attention and from their position in the sitting room they heard the servants demurely answering all the queries that where thrown at them. There was a loud "What!" and a crescendo of heavy footsteps on the stairs._

_There was silence once again as Frederick and the Crofts waited. Anne returned to them soon after, a set of folded clothes in her arms. A new dress had replaced her sodden one._

_"I hope you don't mind," she said, leading him from the sitting room, down the long corridor and through a door back behind the stairs. This lead into the servants area which included the kitchen and laundry. Anne turned right and opened a door._

_"This is Mrs Turnbull's room. You can change in here." She paused. "I can have Edward assist you, if you want."_

_He shook his head. "I will be fine."_

_She nodded and bit her lip, uncertain as to how to continue. Should she stay and see and see that he was catered for or return to the Crofts, or to see how Robert was? She decided, in the end, to stay where she was._

_"I will remain at the door," she told him, as he walked past her and into the small space. "And see that you are not disturbed."_

_"There is no need," he began, but she shook her head again._

_"It is the least I can do."_

_He opened his mouth to speak but thought better of it and quietly shut the door behind him._

_Anne let out a sigh when the door clicked shut and lent heavily on the wall._

_Yesterday she had almost convinced herself that she would never see him again, yet today, here he was. He had even been the one to initiate contact between them this afternoon, something she had been sure he would never do unless forced but he had strode up to her with a determined walk and something clearly on his mind and had spoken with her._

_There had been nothing gloating in his tone nor his words and she felt a little guilty now for thinking that he would act like that. It wasn't who he was, and she did not think him that much changed from the man she once knew._

_His sister had not surprised her at all. She remembered his older brother well and Anne had often imagined that the sister they both spoke about with such love and affection would be merely a female version of them. A idea that had been very much confirmed today._

_True to her word Anne saw that no one disturbed him whilst he changed from his wet clothes and into the ones he had been lent. The trousers where slack around his waist and short in the leg. The shirt, and the jacket where both stretched to their fullest extent across his chest and shoulders. So much so that he feared that any sudden movements, or a reach too far might see them splitting at the seams._

_He bemoaned the loss of his navel jacket, the water was still dripping from it, but knew that it couldn't be helped. The valet tending to the Admirals dress would be able to repair it to its original form once they returned back to the house on Gay street. Still, he did not like to be without it. Especially in a house such as this where the uniform added a little extra weight to him as a person in society._

_Frederick exited the room and Anne ran her eyes over him, taking a note of the way the clothes fitted, or in some cases, did not. "I'm sorry I could not find anything that fitted better."_

_"They fit well enough," he said, slightly uncomfortable under her gaze and at her manner towards him._

_Anne nodded her head and then led him back out through the door and back into the sitting room, stopping suddenly and dropping to a curtsy just as she entered and observed her master standing there._

_She took a step to the side and allowed Frederick to enter._

*************************

"What did you think of him?" Lady Winchester asked, pouring him a cup of tea from the set that had been delivered.

Frederick rubbed a hand over his face. "Forgive me for being terribly honest about a relation of yours, but I did not like him."

"I am not offended," she said, pouring what suspiciously like whiskey into the tea before handing it to him. "But what was it that you did not like?"

"I just, did not like him. He acted, and spoke, with perfect civility but there was something about the way he spoke, about the way he acted that just did not sit well with me. Had I of been on a ship I would have called my men to their positions in preparation of an enemy attack." He turned to her, "Does that make sense?"

She nodded, "Perfectly."

*************************

_"Captain Wentworth, I presume?"_

_Frederick raised his eyes to a man with roughly the same physical attributes as himself walking towards him with a hand outstretched. They where equal in size, though Frederick was perhaps a little bigger built and at least ten years younger._

_Lord Victor Brockhurst was a handsome man. Dark black hair, piercing blue eyes and high cheek bones caught and held people's attention. It was his presence, combined with a certain look in his eyes that Frederick was not able to pin down, that set Frederick on the alert._

_"It is a pleasure to meet you Captain," the Lord said, shaking Fredericks hand. "I hear from Miss Elliot that my son owes you his life."_

_"Miss Elliot is too modest sir," Frederick parried, casting a quick glance in Anne's direction. "She had just as much to do with it."_

_Lord Brockhurst looked between them. "I believe the two of you where formally acquainted?"_

_"We where."_

_The Lord seemed to be looking for more, but Frederick felt the need to say as little as possible to the man standing before him._

_"Well," the Lord continued, "I was just saying to the Admiral and Mrs Croft here that we must have you round for dinner one night. Would next Thursday be convenient?"_

_Frederick deferred to his sister, he had not been in Bath long enough to form any sort of scheduled acquaintance, apart from Admiral Marshall. "We would be most obliged, Lord Brockhurst," she said._

_"Excellent," the Lord said. "I shall see to it that invitations are dispatched. You are acquainted with my wife's cousin I believe, Admiral Marshall."_

_"I am," Frederick said, inclining his head._

_"I will find out if they are free to join us as well." Pulling out a pocket watch, Lord Brockhurst checked the time. "I am afraid I must take my leave of you. I will check on my son then be on my way. Miss Elliot," he said, turning to her. "See our guests out and then wait for me in my study. I would like a word about Hugo before I leave."_

_"Yes sir."_

_"Till next week," he said, bowing to the rest of them before he left the room and could be heard making his way back up the stairs._

*************************

"I did not like seeing her like that," Frederick admitted, sipping his tea. "I once imagined coming home from a voyage, my coat pockets weighed down by riches and running into her somewhere, and being thoroughly pleased with my situation, it being higher than hers. Now that thought just makes me feel sick to my stomach." He took another sip. "I do not mean to say she is a terrible teacher," he continued, "Those children will learn a lot more than just their numbers and letter from her, but she could do so much more."

"Do you still love her?" Lady Winchester asked simply before sitting back and watching the myriad of emotions sweep across his face at lightening speed. He looked away from her almost instantly but in those few moments that she did catch his eye, she saw doubt and hesitation and she thought she knew the reason behind them.

"Anything you tell me," she said, leaning close and speaking in a comforting low voice, "Stays between us. I will not betray your trust in me."

He was silent for a moment. "I do not know," he replied honestly.


	7. Chapter 7

_I've decided I'm going to take over the Persuasion area…does anyone have any objections?_

_ILoveTea - Without going into it too much and giving away the story…yes he is._

_Msgpj - My NaNoWriMo has nothing to do with Persuasion sadly. I'm tapped out for long story ideas at the moment that have anything do with Anne and Frederick. My "novel" will focus on my home town of Edinburgh and some of the events that are happening at the moment in a crime genre, something I've never attempted before._

* * *

Anne let out such a large sigh of relief once the Crofts and Frederick had departed the house and the door was closed behind them, that the young doorman chuckled.

"It cant 'ave been that bad Miss Anne," he said.

"No," she said in reply, "But I am glad it is over, Ben. At least for today."

"Henry says you've been helping him with his letters, in your free time." Ben said as they took a couple of steps together into the hall. The masters study was the first room on the left and he could stand there whilst maintaining his position at the front door should he be needed.

"He is a quick study," she told him truthfully. Benjamin and Henry Harrison were the sons of the former housekeeper who had sadly passed away the previous winter. The family had decided to keep them on, Ben as a footman and Henry as a stable boy. The younger of the two, Henry, had grander ambitions though and wanted to join the Navy. "I enjoy it, and being able to read and write will help him along."

"No doubt he's going to start pestering you once he knows you know a Captain, and an Admiral," Ben joked. His younger brother could be very enthusiastic and bothersome when he caught a hold of some piece of information about the Royal Navy. Anne had had his rapt attention from the start when he realised she knew what he was talking about when talking of ships and battles.

"I will have to cancel our lesson on Sunday," Anne said with some regret. "I've been invited out."

"I'm sure he'll forgive you Miss Anne, as long as you tell him every detail about the two men that just left."

She let out a little laugh, "I'm sure he will."

Steps on the landing at the top of the stairs alerted them to Lord Brockhursts path back down to them and Ben made his way stealthily back to his post by the front door, leaving Anne standing alone by the door to the Lords study.

Anne had been working for them now for nearly ten months and whilst she felt entirely comfortable around nearly everyone in the household; both family and servants there was still two people who she was yet to fully relax around. One was Mrs Turnbull the housekeep of the house here in Bath. She ran the entire household with a firm hand and did not tolerate any sort of misbehaviour, dereliction of duty or slacking. But she was fair and Anne was sure she would come to know her as time went by.

The other was walking towards her.

Lord Brockhurst was still something of a mystery to her. She saw him on many occasions throughout the week and spoke directly with him early each Monday morning where she would explain to him what she would be covering with the children that week and how the had done the previous. He would sit there and make comments, suggestions but would rarely go any further.

She still wondered why he had chosen her.

Anne had been working at a girls boarding school since leaving Mary's, trying to gain some experience in teaching children and earning an income at the same time when a notice had been posting listing a small number of postings that had been advertised. Anne had applied to several in the hopes that one might consider her for the post but she never heard back and assumed that none of them had found her qualified enough.

It was several weeks later that she had been called to the headmistresses room and come face to face with Lord Brockhurst himself who, after giving her the once over, had offered her the position of governess to his three children with the possibility of staying on with the family for several years to come as the family increased in size.

Anne had been totally taken aback by his offer, but accepted it almost immediately. It would likely take her another year or two to find a similar position given her lack of credentials and even then she would have to be picky. Brockhurst was not a name she knew having never met anyone with that name before and she hoped that that would no one would know her real identity.

It never bothered her too much when someone came by and recognised her, either by name or face, but she knew it embarrassed her sisters, especially Elizabeth, so she tried to avoid anyone who might have any connection to her past. She might not have a lot left to offer but she could do this one little thing.

His presence directly in front of her stirred her from her memories and brought her back to the present day. He did not say as word as he opened the door to his study and walked in. She filed in behind him and took her usual place in the centre of the room, directly in front of his desk.

He did not immediately sit down, but strode over to the window. For a while they stood in silence, till he turned and looked at her.

"I have spoken to Hugo," he said, "and revoked all his privileges for the next month. Longer if you I do not see an improvement in him during that time. I want you to keep me better informed of his behaviour."

"Yes sir."

"Good." He walked from the window and took a seat behind his desk. "I am…intrigued by Captain Wentworth. I understand the two of you where previously acquainted?"

"We where My Lord, about eight years ago."

"Did you know him well?"

"He was in my company for about seven months before he returned to duty."

"Had you heard from him since?"

She fidgeted. "I have heard of him, sir. His brother remained in the neighbourhood several months after Captain Wentworth left and used to communicate news from him to me, but we never personally exchanged correspondence."

"And you just happened to run into him this morning?" he asked.

"We met by chance the other day at Admiral Marshall's house and then this morning in the park," she replied.

He did not question her further right away but took his time to look her over and scrutinise. Anne had the vague feeling that he did not believe her, that she was lying to him in some way, even though she was not. She suppressed the urge to shiver and stood her ground.

After a moment he seemed satisfied and nodded. "Very well, but let me remind you Miss Elliot, that you are here under my employment and I will not tolerate any clandestine affairs from you with the Captain or anyone else. Is that clear?"

Blushing, Anne cleared her throat and answered, "Perfectly sir."

"Good. Dismissed."

Anne could not leave his study fast enough.

After paying a quick visit to the children, where she found Robert sleeping soundly in his bed and Diana quietly drawing in the playroom. Hugo, she was told, had been banished to the school room by his father and was not to emerge till dinner.

She left them in the capable hands of the nursery maid, who had the care of the Brockhursts youngest child, a babe of three months, and settled herself down in her room to think over the days events. Flopping down on her bed, suddenly exhausted, she allowed them to play out in her mind.

She was yet to get over the fact that he had approached her, had started a conversation with her, in public. She had not even noticed him, he would have been able to walk away without her knowing any the wiser but he had not.

Anne played their conversation over in her head. So stilted, so awkward a conversation as she had ever had. It reminded her so much of the conversations between her father and Lady Russell's lawyers after their deaths. Neither had taken much joy in telling her of her new financial situation and together they had stumbled over their words for half an hour before they finally managed to tell her there was no money left for her own benefit.

Discourse between herself and Frederick had never before been so…wooden and so forced. Since they first met words had flowed between them easily and never was conversation lacking, there had always been one subject or another to immerse themselves in and silences had always been comfortable.

She rolled onto her side and looked out of the small window set high up on the wall. She could only see the sky from her viewing point but it calmed her. Anne smiled and thought back to Mrs Croft, she had been such a calming influence on the entire situation today and Anne was certain that she was as steadfast and as sturdy her younger brother, and no doubt very level headed in a crisis.

She lay for a long time thinking over the mornings events and what had been said, and by whom.

There had been moments when she had almost let herself believe that no time at all had passed, that they where back in Kellnych and that the last eight years where a bad dream. He had been sincere and apologetic to her plight, and she mentally cursed herself for thinking he might have acted differently. True they had not parted on the best terms, but he had never been cruel and wholly without feeling.

What was to come next though?

Mrs Croft had invited her to join them on Sunday afternoon, they only day Anne had off, for a walk in the country and then to have dinner with them. Whilst looking forward to it Anne knew that she could not allow herself to get too comfortable, they where part of two different worlds now. Now he was the one who socially loomed over her.

She had to remember her place. She was no longer Miss Anne Elliot, daughter of Sir Walter Elliot of Kellynch. She was merely Anne Elliot, governess and servant to the Brockhurst family. No more and no less.


	8. Chapter 8

_Thank you again everyone for all the reviews! You guys are excellent but really have to stop apologising for pointing out my mistakes - I actually like it when you do, oddly enough. It reminds me that, even though I try, I'm not perfect…yet!_

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* * *

Sunday was upon both of them before either of them had a chance to really think about it.

When the small chaise and four drew up at the front door of the stylish terraced house Anne was already outside waiting for them to arrive. At a look from his sister it was Frederick, and not the Admiral, who stepped down to hand her in.

She was greeted with real, and warm affection by both the Admiral and Mrs Croft who were delighted to see her again. The couple had done nothing but pester Frederick to tell them every little thing he knew about her over the last couple of days. He had obliged but had kept some information to himself. He did not see any point in explaining to them how well he had once known Anne and had led them to believe that they merely slight acquaintances.

They were both saddened and distressed by the news that she had lost her both her father and good friend to an accident, and felt guilty when he revealed to them that the house they had been asking her about the day before had, in most likelihood, been the one she had grown up in. They were determined to make it up to her in some way even after he assured them that she would not hold it against them in any way.

They drove out of the town for about three quarters of an hour, chatting amiably all the way, though Frederick was strangely quiet and only spoke then spoken to. He was finding it difficult to sit next to her, to be in the same space as her and not to be effected by her. They were still not completely comfortable around one another and for that he was, at that moment, grateful.

His mind had been spinning since their previous meeting and he had to increasing remind himself of the past and the pain that had come with loving her. Frederick shook his head violently, he was not in love with her any more, what he was experiencing was nothing more than residual feelings that were left over from their attraction eight years ago. Feelings that had never been fully resolved.

At least, that was what he was trying to convince himself.

The carriage parked on the side of the road near to the start of a woodland path. His sister and the Admiral where out of the carriage and walking away, arm in arm, before he had fully sorted himself out and Frederick found himself walking along beside Anne, trailing behind the two in front.

Half an hour in and they had left the Crofts behind, Sophia had come to a rest on a log and claimed she had better stop for a while, the new shoes she had bought were giving her feet problems and she wished to avoid a blister. She waved the two of them on however, specifically making Frederick promise to show Anne (for the two woman had come to the joint agreement that they should call one another by their first names) the outcrop, and so here he found himself, another half an hour along the trail.

The conversation had been light. He had asked about the children, and it was a topic she was willing to go on in great detail about. He heard the affection she had for them in the way that she spoke. She in turn asked about Edward and his travels aboard the Laconia. They both avoided mentioning the Asp and the past previous to that.

Frederick was not willing to let the past rest completely though, and at the next lull in the conversation he cleared his throat and spoke about something that had been bothering him for days.

"If I might be so bold Miss Elliot, but why are you here, in service and not living with either of your sisters?"

If Anne felt in any way that he was overstepping, she never let on. "You have met my elder sister," was all she said to him. He understood her perfectly but unwilling to let the matter drop so easily, especially when he did not seem to distress her too much by talking about it.

"I have," he said, "but blood is thicker than water. Surely if she could not take you in herself, then she could have done something for you." He found it difficult to keep the frustration out of his voice. There was nothing he would not do for either of his siblings. He would give them the clothes off his back and his last penny if they needed it and found it hard to imagine that others would not do the same for their own kin.

They stopped on the outcrop and looked out over the small valley. The wind whistled through the trees, the leaves falling in a steady stream to be trodden underfoot. Anne sighed heavily and turned to keep walking. Frederick offered her his arm and, with only a slight hesitation, she took it, placing her hand securely in the crook of his elbow and they continued walking down the path.

"The last time I spoke directly with Elizabeth was shortly after our fathers funeral. I have not heard from her since apart from a couple of letters I received in the beginning."

That information, not entirely unexpected, found Frederick shaking his head. "Its not right," he thought. "And your younger sister? What about her?"

"Mary and Charles kept me as long as they were able but once the baby arrived I was one burden too many so I decided to move on." She said it so simply and calmly, as though they were speaking of the weather but the words chilled Frederick to the bone.

He pulled up short as she finished speaking and turned to face her. Taking her hands within his, he looked at her with a steady, unwavering gaze that captured her own and held it though she wanted nothing more than to look anywhere but him. He tightened his grip, "You are never a burden," he said, willing her to believe him. "Do not ever think that you are."

"With no more than fifty pounds to my name I could not be seen as anything else. Taking a position as a governess was one of the few respectable options open to me."

Frederick was still not overly satisfied.

The behaviour of her two sisters left a lot to be desired and he felt angry on her behalf. The elder for not doing anything at all to help her sister in her time of need, and the younger for letting her get away for he was certain that she had not put up much of a fight when Anne said she was leaving them to look for a position.

His anger was not confined to them alone however. Her father, being the root of the money problems from the start, had a lot to answer to (had he been able), as had Lady Russell. Even in death the woman had too many ideas about Anne's life and how she should be living it.

He also felt a strange sense of pride in the young woman standing before him at all she had managed to accomplish on her own. She had done what few women in her situation had managed to do; stay out of the poor house.

Her circumstances at the moment may not be perfect, but at least she was living a fairly comfortable life. She had shelter and food plus the children, for the most part, seemed to adore her and he knew they would be learning a lot more than just the regular curriculum from her.

"I think you have done very well," he told her, tucking her hand back into the crook in his arm and continuing the walk. "You always were resourceful though."

"I learnt to be," she said. "When my mother died there needed to be at least one responsible person in the house."

"I'm sure she would be proud of you."

"Thank you," the words were quietly spoken, but belayed her pleasure at the words.

*

"Mere acquaintances," Sophia Croft scoffed to her husband. The two of them had taken a seat on an overturned tree near to where the carriage had been parked for the afternoon. Their position, higher up the hill to the other two on their party, gave them a perfect chance to sit and observe. "If there is not more to their past acquaintance then I am a French consort."

The Admiral let out a short bark of laughter. "As lovely a French consort as you would make my dear," he said, casting his gaze upon the couple that where slowing making their way back to the carriage, "I believe you are right."

The elder couple kept a watchful eye on Frederick and Anne on the ride home and all throughout dinner. Thought they were perhaps more comfortable and at ease around one another than they had been earlier on in the day, the Crofts saw nothing more going on. Which, Sophia Croft thought later on in the evening, was a great shame as Anne was a lovely young woman.

Though it was late in the month of September and winter was fast approaching, the weather was fair and caused Anne to decline all offers of the carriage being brought round to take her home, or of a chair being called.

"It is not far," she argued.

Sophia Croft could be as stubborn as she brother though, and she soon found herself with an escort home.

She stopped at the end of the street and whilst he began to make the short crossing over to the other side of the road, she stood where she was.

"Miss Elliot?" he queried.

She looked up at him, her lower lip caught between her teeth. "Are you in a terrible rush to return Captain Wentworth?" she asked.

"No," he answered, his curiosity peaked. She smiled at him then and lead him down the road, instead of crossing where they were going to. It was quite a distance down before they crossed the street and headed down a lane lined on both sides by stables. Horses of all colours tracked their progress with watchful eyes.

They where near the end of the lane when an older man raking hay looked up and recognised her. "Miss Anne," he called as they got near. "How are you this fine evening?" he said, taking his hat from his head to speak with her.

"Very well, thank you Joseph. How are you?"

"Living each day as it comes, ma'am." His toothy smile breaking through his gloomy outlook.

"As are we all," she replied, looking around. "Is Henry about?"

"The poor lads been moping about all day Miss Anne," Joseph told her, his attention now turned to Frederick, giving him a thorough looking over. "Henry!" he cried out. "There be someone here to see you."

Scuffling sounds could be heard in the loft area of a nearby uninhabited stable. Bites of hay and feed rained down as a young boy of about twelve dropped to the ground from where he had been hiding out. He brushed himself down as he walked out of the stalled area, not looking up till he reached the swinging door.

"Miss Anne," he cried, his face lighting up and he ran the last few steps over to her before skidding to a halt as he caught sight of Frederick standing a little behind her.

Anne let out a low laugh at the look on the young boys face. "Henry this is Captain Frederick Wentworth formally of the HMS Laconia," she said, turning to Frederick. "Captain Wentworth, might I introduce you to Henry Harrison, future Admiral of the Royal Navy."

Frederick raised his eyebrows at her introduction but she merely smiled at him. Henry caught his look, "I'll make it sir, just you wait and see." he said, standing his ground, his feet planted shoulder width apart with his arms clasped behind his back. A commanding stance.

"I'm sure you will," Frederick said, instantly impressed by the young lad standing before him. "At ease sailor." Henry instantly relaxed but could not seem to take his eyes off the Captain.

"As you may have guessed," Anne said, smiling, "Henry has ambitions to join the Navy."

"I can see that."

They both turned their attention to the young lad who could not seem to believe his luck. "How old are you Master Henry?" Frederick asked.

"Twelve sir."

Frederick nodded, "You have another two years then."

"Aye sir."

"I have been tutoring Henry and helping him with his words and numbers," Anne said to Frederick, "I thought it might help him out and give him an advantage."

"Its certainly helpful," he agreed, not really surprised that she had taken this young boy under her care, the servants at Kellynch had always been forthcoming in their praise and more than willing to turn a blind eye here and there in regards to letters and their walks in the grounds.

"Did you really Captain the Laconia sir?" Henry asked.

"I did, for four years."

"HMS Laconia," Henry started as though reciting from a book. "74 gun frigate, second class. Commissioned in 1803 and brought into service 1805. Is currently on patrol duty in the Southern Atlantic Ocean."

Frederick raised an eyebrow and turned to Anne, who was smiling widely. "Henry also has a very good memory."

"So I see. Though you have the last bit wrong, she is currently in dry dock at Portsmouth and not traversing around the Southern Atlantic, much to my regret."

"If you go by the last published navy list sir, I'm right," Henry said, standing his ground and Frederick couldn't help but laugh.

Anne couldn't help but smile at the image of the two of them together as they descended into navel talk. She knew that it would be a good idea to bring these two together. Since the first time Henry had asked her to read to him from book she was carrying, a fabled tale of ships and far off lands, after he had seen a picture on the page of a ship, she had begun to think of him as a younger version of the navel Captain she had once known.

Back when they had first met Frederick spoke of his navel career sparsely, keeping the information and technicalities to a minimum till she had surprised him by asking him a question to something he had assumed she would have no knowledge about. Since then it had always been a topic spoken about often, and he had told her about being a young child pestering his elder brother and sister to read to him, to find him books about ships and to take him down to the docks to watch them coming in to moor.

A cold wind raced down the lane and Anne could not repress a shiver. Frederick took notice of her then and cut short his conversation with Henry, promising the lad that they would meet again and, ignoring Anne's insistence that she would be fine making her way from there on her own or that was she was not even cold, escorted her back to the house on Lawn Crescent.

The man who answered the door had a solemn, bored look on his face till he saw who it was standing there. He smiled widely at her and her companion.

"I'm glad Henry ain't about Miss Anne, otherwise the Captain here wouldn't make it home for another hour or so," he said, opening the door further.

"I already took him to meet Henry," Anne said to the doorman who laughed.

"I bet the French seem like mere pains compared to my brother, sir," the young Benjamin Harrison said.

"I do not think I've met a lad with such a thirst for navel knowledge," Frederick admitted.

"Thirst is one way to put it sir," Ben said, "The rest of us just call him a nuisance." He turned to Anne, "Word is that Robert wont go to bed till 'es seen you. Sally asked that you go right up when you came back." Anne nodded.

"Thank you for walking me home," she said turning to Frederick.

"It was my pleasure."

Their eyes locked and held for a few moments, their breath coming in tandem, before Anne looked away.

"Goodnight Captain," Anne said quietly, stepping back into the house.

"Goodnight," he said, tipping his head in a parting bow. The door closed, "Anne," he whispered.

He stood on the front steps for a long while after the door had closed before shaking his head and smiling to himself. Walking off down the street he stopped at the end and gave the house one last look before making his way back to the Crofts.

He missed the pair of eyes that followed his progress.


	9. Chapter 9

_Too short? The last chapter was the longest of the lot so far! Now this one is._

_Sorry for the delay with this chapter, I hit a snag when it was half way done and just couldn't seem to get it going again. All better now though._

_Smallrose - Alas, I doubt a box of chocolates would really inspire my muse to work any harder. Which is a shame really._

_Message to the 27 people who have this on alert…I'm watching you! And wondering if this will be the chapter that you finally review because I'd love to hear from you._

* * *

Admiral Marshall glared at his friend over the pool table and resisted the urge to whack him about the head with the pool cue. He decided to give him a reprieve however, as Frederick had not really been himself these past two days and Marshall had to take pity on him. It also did not hurt that he had managed to win a fair deal of money out of his friends lack of concentration.

Deciding enough was enough, Marshall put his cue down on the table. The clatter it made whilst landing managing to bring Frederick out of his catatonic like state.

"Alright," Marshall said, placing both hands flat on the table and leaning forward, fixing Frederick with a stare, "What's wrong?"

"Wrong?" Frederick parroted.

"That was the fifth straight game in a row you've let me walk away with today alone, and not that I mind beating you but this is too easy. Something's wrong."

"If you say so." Frederick placed his cue down as well and proceeded to the small liquor cabinet.

"I don't just say so Frederick, I know so. I haven't seen you this distracted since that incident with the Dutch back in year nine."

Frederick frowned, he did not like the memories that statement brought. Not a single death or act of destruction ever left him but he managed to work through them. Multiple deaths and massive destruction where a little harder to let go and move on from, especially when the whole incident had been the cause of mistaken identity.

He shook his head. "Drink?" he offered, the crystal decanter poised above the glasses.

Marshall nodded and accepted a glass of port. He sank heavily into one of the chairs by the fireplace. "So, what is the problem?" Marshall asked again. Hoping, though not a lot, that the change of scene, and liberal supply of alcohol might see his friend opening up.

Frederick, who had taken a station by the window, said nothing and seemed preoccupied suddenly with the window and the world beyond.

"I gather it is to do with one of four things," Marshall continued, determined to help his friend out of this rut. He held up a closed fist and slowly, as he said them, lifted a finger to correspond to each word. "Family. Friends. Finance. Feminine."

Frederick still said nothing but from the way he stiffened, Marshall suspected he might be on to something. He continued, "I know it is not something to do with your family, the Admiral would have informed me otherwise. Friends, well you and I are playing happily together. Finance, hmm, I do not claim to know your current wealth, though it is now down by £5, but I do not believe you are heading for the poorhouse. Which leads me to the conclusion that your mood can be attributed to a member of the fairer sex."

"You are too nosy for your own good," was what Frederick told him eventually.

"I'm right though, aren't I?"

Reluctantly Frederick nodded.

"This was not supposed to happen," he began, his tone quiet and even, "I was not going to be anywhere near her, let alone that whole county. There would have been no danger in our paths crossing and our acquaintance being renewed. Yet here she is in Bath, a city she despises, all because her family, both living and deceased, could not see fit to provide even the smallest amount to her." His fist hit the wooden frame around the window with a thud and a harshly spoken "Damn."

Marshall nodded his head, pieces of an emerging puzzle slowly falling into place. "I take it we are talking about Miss Elliot?" It was said as a statement rather than a question.

Running his hand through his hair Frederick nodded. "I knew her a long time ago and I honestly never thought I would see her again. If I was perfectly honest with myself, I never really wanted to. I feared that if I ever ran into her again she would either be the woman I remembered, or married. Or both."

"I take it there is a tale behind this past acquaintance of yours?"

"Aye, but I'm not sure I'm up to telling it just yet."

"Whenever you feel like it Frederick," Marshall said. He chuckled, "I guess I'll have to tell Philippa to get to stop her matchmaking attempts. She has invited three young single ladies this evening alone."

He looked up when Frederick did not answer and found him standing stock still, his gaze fixed on something on the other side of the glass.

It was then that he remembered that the Brockhurst children, minus Hugo, where currently upstairs in the nursery and that they where due to be picked up around this time by their governess.

* * *

Anne took her time on the relatively short walk to the Marshall residence, enjoying being out of the house and in the fresh air. Lord Brockhurst had been on the warpath all morning and no one had been safe from his wrath as he found fault with everything and everyone.

Anne, as had all the other servants within the house, been at a lose to explain what had made him this way but had taken to great lengths to try and avoid him. When the clock had struck one, she had been ready to depart and collect the children and had managed to slip out of the house without being the subject of her Lords temper.

* * *

She was very surprised to be greeted at the door by the Admiral himself. "Ah, Miss Elliot. Here to collect the children I gather?"

"I am sir."

"Would you indulge me for a short while ma'am," he said gesturing "By having tea with me and a friend of mine?" She should have been suspicious from the moment he said that, perhaps then she would have been prepared for the sight of Frederick leaning casually against the wall on the other side of the room.

"Captain Wentworth," she curtseyed.

"Miss Elliot," he returned with a bow, carefully glaring at his friend when she could not see him. Marshall just shrugged and led her to a seat.

"Would you care for some tea, Miss Elliot?" the Admiral asked as he settled himself on the settee beside her, reaching for the tea stuff that sat on the table.

"I really can not stay long, Admiral Marshall, my Lord is expecting us back shortly." Anne said as she accepted a cup from the Admiral and held it whilst he poured.

"Not right at this moment I'm sure," he said, dropping the required amount of sugar in the cup. "Milk?" Anne shook her head. "And Frederick and I shall accompany you back, so even if you are late there will be no misunderstandings.

Even though Marshalls words were aimed at calming her, Frederick could tell that Anne was still ill at ease. Her posture was too stiff and she kept glancing at the clock on the mantelpiece every few moments. It worried him.

"Perhaps," he said moving from his place against the wall, "You should go and inform the children that we will be leaving soon, Marshall. You know how long it can take them to get ready."

Misinterpreting that his friend wanted some alone time with Anne, Marshall was quick to comply and soon out of the door and bounding upstairs.

Anne placed her half finished cup of tea back down on the table and proceeded to wring her hands together, glancing at the clock once more.

"Do you really have to be on your way?" Frederick asked, taking a seat opposite her.

"I said I would not be long," she said.

"Surely a few minutes will not matter. You can blame it all on Marshall if you'd like. I am sure he will not mind."

Anne awarded him with a small smile then and he could not help but answering her with one of this own. They were slowly beginning to fall back into that time when they were at ease with one another. The afternoon out and then dinner at the Crofts had gone a long way towards helping them reach this moment, and whilst the initial meeting between them today had been a cautious one that atmosphere had quickly evaporated.

"Its just that," she said, biting her lower lip nervously. "I don't want the children to suffer."

"He would raise his hand to them?" he asked, his expression turning. Anne shook her head quickly to dispel his thoughts.

"Oh, no," she said hastily. "But he will shout, a lot, and it will upset them, and I would rather spare them from that. He has been in a foul mood all morning." she added.

He studied her then. The Anne he had known once would not have stood for anyone taking their anger out on someone else, unless it was from a member of her own family and the person in question was herself. That he never truly understood. "You're worried," he said, leaning forward and looking at her closely.

"A little," she admitted.

He shook his head. "I don't like that. You say there is nothing to be worried about, but here you are worrying." A sudden thought struck him and he bristled. "Does he hit you?"

"What!" Anne exclaimed. "No. I'll admit he has a temper, but he's never hit anyone."

"That you know of."

She stood and gathered her pelisse about her. "I do not think that this is a conversation we ought to be having Captain."

"Wait," he said. She made as if to walk out of the room in search of her charges and he caught her gently round the wrist. "I'm sorry," he said when he had her full attention. "I did not mean any disrespect. I was merely voicing my opinions. You ought to know what I am like, you admonished me enough in the past about opening my mouth and speaking before I've thought through what I'm about to say."

Her expression soften then. "I remember," she said, smiling.

Admiral Marshall took that moment to make his reappearance, and upon seeing Anne's hand encased in Frederick's immediately began to make his apologises and leave again.

"Marshall," Frederick called him back, finally releasing Anne's hand. He had not been aware he had still held it till she had attempted to take it back. Anne had been fully aware, even more so when his thumb had begun to trail lazily across her knuckles and had experienced a instinctive reaction when the Admiral had returned, to take her hand back. She now felt strangely bereft without it.

The walk back to the Brockhurst's house on Lawn Crescent was short and swift. Frederick had been left the charge of offering his arm to Anne after Marshall had commandeered the children. Two of his own accompanied them as well, and despite Anne's hesitation, he had been determined that he could cope with them all on his own and he was not doing too bad a job. He had the children paired off and had made a game of getting home without letting go of their partners hands. It was working well so far.

Anne felt a small knot of apprehension form in her gut that got a little larger and tighter. She tried to tell herself that there was no real reason for her to be worried about the Admiral and Frederick escorting them home, for there really was nothing to worry about.

They entered the house with little ceremony. The children where divested of their coats and taken to the nursery while one of the footmen showed the Admiral and Captain Wentworth to the sitting room. Anne hesitated. Should she bide them farewell and head up the stairs and out of sight? Or should she accompany them into the sitting room and wait with them until Lord Brockhurst made his appearance?

In the end Anne had found it impossible to escape from them, and away to the relative safety of the schoolroom, as a result of Admiral Marshall's constant chatter. Every time she tried to leave he would ask another question and encourage her to continue the conversation. He had even taken her by the arm and led her into the sitting room, thereby solving her conundrum for her.

Had it of been any other time then she would have been more than happy to carry on a conversation with him, he was a very agreeable and intelligent man. She suspected that, had it of been proper, she would have formed a close acquaintance with him.

She felt a small pang of loss. Had things between herself and Frederick worked out then she might have known these people, Frederick's friends and their families. They probably would have been her close intimate friends and she briefly imagined what it might have been like.

It was a past time she attempted to avoid, but one she found herself sinking into more often than not with the passing of the years. She did not find it a healthy pursuit, to dwell on what might have - could have - been, but her musings often included memories from the past and she could find some joy from them.

She often wondered to herself, what her mother would have thought of him? Would she have sanctioned the match? Or advised caution?

Anne had to believe that her mother would have liked him. Would she have seen within him what Anne saw herself, and embraced him into the family. If she were really honest with herself, Anne knew that had her mother still been alive when Frederick proposed, then the whole event probably would have played out exactly the same but would have had a happier ending.

She sighed then, and so loud that Frederick glanced sharply at her from his position opposite.

They heard him before they saw him.

The banging of several doors and raised words between him and the footman preceded his entrance in to the sitting room where Frederick and Admiral Marshall had been lead.

"Admiral Marshall and Captain Wentworth, sir," the footman announced before stepping aside quickly and allowing his master to stride purposely into the room.

Frederick surveyed the man before him and felt the feelings of trepidation, mistrust and a small amount of fear settle over him to become firmly cemented in to his conscience. If you asked him he could not tell you why, but he really did not like this man and liked it even less that Anne was stuck under the same roof as him, let alone as his servant.

He met Lord Brockhurst cordially though, stepping back once he's said his piece and allowed Marshall to take centre stage in the conversation. The Lord did not look as though he was in the talking mood but like many before him, found it impossible to escape from Marshall once he got going.

Brockhurst had completely ignored that Anne was in the room them apart from a flashing glance he had afforded her when he entered. She had curtseyed upon his arrival and maintained a demure posture ever since. Again reverting back to an Anne that Frederick did not know. He had tried to catch her eye throughout the proceedings but failed in that respect.

It did however catch the attention of Lord Brockhurst and the man barely contained a snarl at the peacock of a Captain currently sitting on one of his chairs in his house.

"If you will excuse me gentlemen," he said, rising from his seat as the others did the same, "But I have business to attend to this afternoon that can not be kept."

It was a not too subtle way of asking them to leave.

"And I am sure," he continued, looking the direction of his governess for the first time, "That Miss Elliot has duties to perform."

Frederick felt his hackles raise and even Marshall seemed slightly taken aback at the tone and expression on his cousin in laws face. "No harm done, Brockhurst. Well," the Admiral said, "Shall we be on out way Frederick?"

They both bide their farewells to Brockhurst and then, more warmly, to Anne as they left the room. Brockhurst escorted them to the door after halting Anne in her place with a look.

He returned to her after they had left, his expression hard and cold.

"I do not want to see that man in my house without my prior consent. Is that understood?" His face was right next to hers and the words were hissed through a clenched jaw.

Anne nodded and bowed her head. Her throat tightened and she suppressed a shudder.

"Dismissed," he said curtly and she quickly curtseyed, keen to be gone from his presence. She did not get very far however, as he grabbed hold of her wrist in his hand, squeezing tightly. She gasped as she felt his nails dig into her skin.

"I will be obeyed," he said. "After dinner on Thursday night I never want to here about him, nor about you being seen with him. There shall be no more outings on Sundays and the children will remain in the house. Do I make myself clear?" His grip intensified and she knew that it would leave a bruise.

She nodded quickly, eager for him to let her go. She had never seen this side of him before and he was beginning to scare her.

He pulled her closer. "This is my house," he said. "You are my servant and you belong to me. Remember that." With his last words he pushed her from him and Anne quickly gathered his wits about her and fled up the stars, clutching her wrist close to her body. She reached her room and quickly shut the door behind her. Leaning against the wooden surface she began to take deep, calming breaths and tried not to let the trembling get the best of her.

Much like the week before, Anne slide down to the floor, tears caressing her cheeks as she struggled to compose herself.


	10. Chapter 10

_Sorry for the delay but writers block had me securely locked within its grasp. I have also been ill, but wont gross you all out with all that. Suffice to say my worship of the porcelain god has been frequent recently._

_I loved the reviews for the last chapter. I love that you don't like Lord Brockhurst, It proves that I am conveying the right message with my writing to have you all hate him so much. Yeah!_

_I have to admit that the thought of Frederick riding up on a white horse and whisking Anne (or rather me) away to live with him happily ever after, is a tempting prospect but I hesitate to say anything else on the subject for the moment. I will only say that its going to get worse before it gets better, and in a chapter or two you guys aren't going to like Frederick all that much._

_Oh, and Happy Holidays everyone!_

* * *

Frederick found himself unable to shift the feeling of unease that had descended upon him in the presence of Lord Brockhurst. Marshall had suggested, on their departure from the house, that they head towards his club and enjoy an evening meal there. Frederick had readily agreed, hoping that the change of scenery and company would help settle him.

He could not fault the meal, nor the company, but hours later Frederick was still not able to shake the feeling that he had. He pondered it whilst they sat afterwards, glass of port in hand and decided that it might be a good idea to try and tackle the problem head on.

"What do you know about Brockhurst?" he asked Marshall.

The other man looked across at him. "Not a lot. He married into Phillipa's family eight years or so ago and comes from a family of old money."

"Was the match arranged?"

"Not really," Marshall said. "From what I have heard, his parents gave him a small list of suitable woman that he would be allowed to marry and retain his fortune. Lady Penelope was one of them."

"What is he like as a man?"

"Frederick," Marshall admonished. "Do you really see me keeping company with the man?"

"Have you heard anything about him then?"

"You're going to have to be a little more specific."

Frederick heaved a sigh. "I don't like the man," he said simply. He looked up to see Marshall studying him closely. "I have no reason too, but I just have a bad feeling about him."

"There is no love lost between the two of us," Marshall admitted, "No matter my title or wealth, I am still merely a product of the Royal Navy to him. Perhaps you are just feeling his resentment towards your chosen profession?"

Frederick shook his head. "Its more than that."

"Well," said Marshall "He is not a member of your extended family and excluding Thursday night, you will never have to see him again should you wish it. So stop worrying."

"Its not me I'm worried about," Frederick said quietly to himself as Marshall spotted an acquaintance and left him to his thoughts.

* * *

Thursday rolled around and Frederick found himself once again standing on the pavement outside number 2 Lawn Crescent. Home to Lord Brockhurst and his family, and one governess.

The meal in itself was nothing spectacular. Frederick and the Crofts where joined at the table my Admiral Marshall and his wife, as well as two other couples - the Smythsons and the Spurrells - who were obliviously friends of Lord Brockhurst and his wife.

Having ultimately decided that enough time had passed since the birth of her last child, a period of almost four months, Lady Brockhurst was in attendance tonight and Frederick was finally made acquainted with her. She was just as he imagined she would be' handsome, elegant and completely void of meaningful conversation. She was polite enough but lacked a certain grace when speaking and spent most of the evening talking with the other two ladies in attendance. Only speaking with her cousin when it suited.

Anne was not in attendance and Frederick scolded himself for thinking otherwise. Whilst she remained a governess she would not be attending functions such as these. He missed her company. He had willingly put up with countless dinners back when they had first met just so that he had a chance of sitting near her, and the certainty of conversing with her after.

After dinner the men departed for the pool room and the ladies to the library. The party where not split for long, however much the gentleman of the house might have liked, as there had been special arrangements made for his youngest son to be brought down for a short period of time and fawned at by those in attendance.

Marshall's, "Good evening Miss Elliot," was the only warning he receiving that Anne would be in the room before he stepped into it. His gait suddenly seemed lighter, his features lifted and lighten. His whole demeanour changed in an instant and before he could stop himself he felt a longing to be beside her. To talk with her, to walk with her and reaffirm the closeness that they had shared.

He knew then, in that very instant, that however much he tried to deny it, he was still as much in love with her as he had been eight years previous, if not more, and only hoped that she still felt the same for him. The realisation was sudden but not all together startling, as though he might have suspected it deep down within himself, and he looked forward to sitting with her a while and perhaps wheedling an invitation to dinner for her, from his sister. He was sure she would oblige him.

As his gaze fell upon her he had to stifle an exclamation. He had never known two days to change a person so, for she was not the same woman he had left in this house on Tuesday afternoon.

Anne was seated upon one of the settees within the room, her young charge upon her lap. If anyone where to look at her, as she was, there would be no difference in her appearance or dress to them but to him there was a world of different.

In the way in which she held herself; as though she was expecting to have to take off at any second. The way her eyes, those that had lost their spark, remained fixated upon the floor except when she was spoken to. Even in the tone of her voice, seemingly devoid of any emotion; too soft and quelled.

In the whole time she was there they said not one word to another. Nor exchanged one glance. It was as though she did not know he was even there.

He stood at the edge of the group an observed her. She sat in the middle and listened carefully to the story that Robert told all about the day he had fallen into the pond. They sat there until Robert yawned for a second time and it was decided that he should be taken to bed.

He thought for a moment that she had glanced his way as she left the room but could not be sure, and by then the previous feeling of bliss (and all that come with it) had ebbed away leaving his heart, not bursting for joy, was constricted through worry. It was then that he decided he would have to see her before he left.

He waited until Lord Brockhurst left the room and then surreptitiously made his way from the drawing room and out into the hallway. He stood at the bottom of the stairs and contemplated whether he should make the dash up them and to where he thought she might be. He started slightly when the sound of someone clearing their throat from behind him, drew his attention.

"Captain Wentworth," he young footman bowed. "If you're looking for Miss Anne then she should be heading back up the stairs in a minute or two."

Frederick took a couple of steps towards him and gave the young man a quizzical look. "How?"

"Merely a guess sir," the footman said, "But I've heard about you from my brother, and I doubt you'd be lurking about for any other reason."

"You're Henry's brother?"

"I am sir."

"He's an interesting lad."

Benjamin grinned. "That's nice of you to say sir, mostly people just call him annoying. Me included."

"He's just curious. I imagine I must have been just like him at that age."

"Then I pity your brother and sister sir, for you must have annoyed them senseless." Ben's eyes caught someone moving in the shadows and crane his head round Frederick to see. "There she is," he said. "I'll leave you to it." and with that stood over to his place on the other side of the inner door.

From the sight of her, Frederick could tell that Anne had relaxed a little. She no longer looked as apprehensive as she had done not twenty minutes before but the moment she realised that someone was standing there, that it was him, she visibly tensed up.

"Captain Wentworth," she said hastily, glancing about. "I uh, are you lost?"

"No," he replied quietly, with a shake of his head. "I was waiting for you."

Anne took a step backwards, towards the door she had just exited. "I am sorry then, but I really have a lot to do and I think it best you be going."

With that she turned and pushed her way through the door. Frederick lunged after her. "Anne!"

He reached out to her as he had done days previously and again succeeded in grabbing hold of her wrist. He was totally unprepared however, for the flinch that she experienced. A blush forming on her cheeks Anne avoided his gaze and attempted to pry her arm from his grasp. He was about to speak to her when his attention was caught.

Pulling her closer to him, nearer the wall and the light bracket, he, using his other hand, slowly pulled up the sleeve of her dress to revel the bruises that had lingered there. He ran his fingers gently over the discoloured skin.

The distinctive shape of the marks left Frederick in no doubt as to what had caused them. The blood drained from his body as, remembering two days previous, he thought for one dreadful moment; 'Did I do this?'

Anger replaced despair a second later when, laying his own fingers gently over the bruises, he saw that the hand that had created them was decidedly smaller than his own. The fingers thinner and longer.

As his thumb caressed the inside of her wrist, Anne let out an audible intake of breath and attempted, with little success, to suppress a tremble. A reaction to his touch. "Please," she murmured, tugging her hand away. "I have to go."

He lent close, pulling her gently towards him. "Not until you tell me how you got this," he said, her wrist still firmly encased in his hand.

Anne refused to met his gaze, instead she looked back over her shoulder. "Frederick," she pleaded, shaking her head. "Please."

"No," he said firmly but gently. "Something's happened Anne, and I am not going anywhere till you tell me what."

She took her lower lip between her teeth and looked at him. "Nothing is going on," she said, unconvincingly. "Why would you think such a thing?"

"Anne," he exhaled. He raised a hand to her face, set on smoothing back a stray lock of hair when she flinched away from his touch. He looked sceptically at her before carrying out his task. "Still want to tell me nothing happened?"

"It was nothing."

"Nothing doesn't leave bruises like this," he said, pulling her arm up against his chest. He felt, and heard, her sighed loudly, her body taking momentary refuge against his.

"Frederick," she said again, her voice muffled against his jacket, "You don't understand."

"Understand what?"

"I,"

"Miss Elliot."

Her gasp was unmistakable this time and she pulled her arm from his grasp with such force that he feared she might have done it some damage. Before he had opened his mouth to say something however, she had left his side and now stood by her master.

Frederick winced, _"Lord how he hate how that sounded."_

Frederick saw her eyes widen at something he said to her, and Anne glanced quickly his way. Their eyes meeting for the briefest of moments. Sadness, fear and longing were just some of the emotions that he was able to identify in her expression when she looked at him.

Lord Brockhurst said something else to her and Frederick saw her nod before her head bowed and her gaze become fixed upon the floor. His hands curled into fists and he longed to allow them free reign upon the un-weathered complexion of Lord Brockhurst but managed, some how, to keep his anger in check. Not an easy task when the Lord look up and round directly at him. A look of triumph and smugness splashed across his features. It was an ugly expression.

He barked an order at Anne who, with one last tortured glance at Frederick, scurried off to do as he bid. Lord Brockhurst then smoothed down his jacket and walked over to where Frederick stood.

"You will cease this," he said.

Frederick frowned, confused at the way the conversation was starting out. "This?"

"She, and the others, are my servants and I will not have them carrying on behind my back and disgracing me."

"Disgracing you?" Frederick asked loudly, even more confused.

"By having illicit affairs with men such as yourself."

He took a couple of deep breaths before answering. "Look," Frederick began, speaking calmly and clearly. "I do not know what you think is going on, but there is nothing 'illicit' happening between myself and Miss Elliot." He took as step closer to Lord Brockhurst. "Besides the fact that you believe that I am some womanising Crinkleneck of a sailor, which I am not and take strong offence to, how could you even think that of Miss Elliot? Surely by now you have seen that she is as prime and proper as the ladies of high society. Probably even more so," he added as an after thought.

"I do not care what you think," Brockhurst hissed at him. "And I care less for your opinions. I am merely what you to stay away from what is mine."

Frederick could not remember the last time he was so shocked. "Yours! She way work for you, but Anne belongs to no one."

"She is in my employ and living under my roof. For all intents and purposes she does belong to me. And I am warning you to stay away."

"Warning me?" Frederick drew himself to his full height. "I do not like thinly veiled threats sir, speak plainly."

"Then let me say it clearly," Lord Brockhurst said. "I do not like your kind Captain and loathe to have you in my company, and after tonight I do not want to see you round here ever again." He took a step towards Frederick, "Not on your own, not in the company of that Pirate masquerading as a gentleman and definitely not in the company of my governess."

He had taken yet another step towards Frederick on the utterance of his last spoken word and the two men now stood toe to toe, their gazes locked in a furious battle.

Had they of decided to drop the decorum and lock fists, it might have been a closely fought fight. They where evenly matched in height though Frederick displayed a broader chest and shoulders. He was confident he could take Brockhurst physically but there was a mad glint in the Lords eye that concerned him, that it would not be a fair fight for one reason or another.

"Frederick?"

Both men started at the sudden interruption but refused to break their gaze from one another. It was not until Marshall came to stand beside them, his hand going to Frederick's shoulder in show of solidarity, that Lord Brockhurst took a step backwards. Before disappearing into the room that Marshall had just come from, he turned and spoke directly to Frederick. "Remember what I said."

"Frederick?" Marshall questioned.

Taking a deep breath Frederick willed his fists to unclench. "Can you give me regrets to the rest of the party Marshall, seems I have to leave early."


	11. Chapter 11

_Honest opinions on this one please. Does Frederick give in too easily at the end? Does he turn too quickly? Or is he just guarded? and afraid of what might happen again if Anne were to discuss the matter with someone else?_

_Answers on a postcard._

* * *

Frederick declined the use of the carriage, as offered to him by the coach driver who had been waiting out the front of the Brockhurst's house all night, deciding that the walk home and the cool breeze might help him to cool off.

As it was he arrived home to number 27 Gay Street not five minutes before Admiral Croft and his sister. They both attempted to engage him in conversation but his answers were short and noncommittal, and after a while they decided to leave him be hoping that perhaps he would be in a better conversational mood in the morning.

Frederick's mood, and temper, remained as it was for several days after. Sophy would often exchange glances over the table with her husband but neither said anything to Frederick. They suspected it had something to do with the incident at the Brockhurst's house the other night, not that they knew anything about that either and so kept themselves to themselves and waited for Frederick to let them in on his problems.

Over a week had passed when he finally decided that enough was enough. Grabbing his hat from the stand he left his sisters house with no more than a goodbye and set on a personal mission in the hopes that he could ensure his future happiness.

* * *

Anne had kept herself to herself in the days preceding the dinner.

She continued the children's education, preferring to teach them out in the garden rather than the park and spent her free time lending a hand down in the stores making preserves and jams with the summer fruits that were brought in. Margaret, the cook, had been doubtful when Anne had first approached her with her offer of help but Margaret was soon won over when it become apparent that Anne knew what she was doing.

It was late one afternoon, as the sun slowly vanished and the moon came out to play, that Anne was to be found sitting in the small drying room, setting her hand at making some rose water, when one of the young maids entered and stood in the doorway nervously.

"What is it Lucy?"

"Someone to see you ma'am. 'e's waiting for you at the bottom of the garden."

Setting aside the items she had been using, Anne went and stood by the window but however much she tried, she could not quite see who it was waiting for her. Though she thought she could take a guess. "Thank you Lucy," she said to the young maid.

"I 'ope you don't mind Miss, but 'e was pretty insistent that 'e speak with you, and I didn't want to say no to 'im," the young girl stammered. She was wringing her hands together, unsure that she had done the right thing by first speaking to the man, and then informing Anne about his request to speak to her.

"Its ok Lucy. Though if anyone ever approaches you again, let Ben or George know. Its not safe for you, for any of us, to be meeting strange men in the garden."

The young girl nodded. "I would of Miss, but I know 'im."

Anne could only sigh in response. Everyone in the Brockhurst household seemed to know who the tall, dashing Naval Captain was and that she had some sort of connection to him. Of course, no one dared to mention his name whilst the master of the house was around for fear of reprisals but they delighted in talking about him in secret.

"Tis the Captain, Miss."

Anne nodded to the girl as she confirmed what Anne already suspected. Shaking her head in disproval (sneaking about in the garden?) Anne tided up before heading to the back door. Before she opened it she shook out her dress and made sure her hair was in place. It was a silly move, but despite what she tried to tell herself, she was looking forward to seeing him.

Taking a deep breath she opened the door and stepped out into the fading light. Closing the door behind her, Anne took a quick look around about before walking down the few steps leading down into the garden and walked quickly over to where she believed Frederick to be.

She completely missed the pair of narrowed eyes watching her every move.

Frederick was pacing back and forth behind the garden gazebo when Anne approached. The structure shielded them from view from the majority of the house.

"Frederick?"

He whipped his head up when he heard her speak his name. "Anne," he breathed.

She shook her head and looked over her shoulder. "You should not be here."

"Please," he said, holding a hand out to her - which she gladly took - and pulling her into the shadow with him. "I was worried. I had to see you."

"I'm fine," she said, stepping up to him. "There was no need for your concern."

He raised an eyebrow. Holding her hand firmly he used his other to gently slide her sleeve up her arm to reveal the yellowy discolouration of weeks old bruises. "Are you sure about that?"

"It was nothing," she said, tugging her hand from his and covering her arm back up. "One of the children just grabbed me too hard."

He stared at her. "You must be mistaking me for some wet behind the ears youngster. Do not play me the fool Anne. I know none of the children did that to you."

She could not look at him. "It was an accident."

"Anne."

She was silent.

"I did not come here to argue," Fredrick said, taking a step closer. "but to ask if there is a chance?"

"A chance?"

"That you still care for me. Love me, the way I do you."

She stared at him then, her heart thudding loud and clear in her chest.

"I tried, so hard to forget about you. To forget what we had eight years ago and I foolishly thought I had succeeded. Till I saw you again. Since that moment I have been fighting with both my head and my heart over what to do." He took her hand and placed it on his chest where she could clearly feel the organ in question beating as strong and as rapidly as her own. "My head was in denial and my heart knows what it wants."

"Frederick," she whispered, the hand on his chest gripping tightly.

"Anne, I still love you as much as I did then, please say you will marry me?"

She forgot how to breath, her heart ceased to beat and the world stopped its rotation. The sounds of the world around them seemed muted and she could only see the deep blue of his eyes.

"Yes," she said breathlessly and suddenly everything came alive again.

Frederick let out a muffled cry and took her in his arms, lifting her off her feet and spinning her round. Depositing her back down he lowered his head and brushed a light, fleeting kiss across her lips.

"Come with me."

"Pardon?"

"Sophy will put you up and we can begin the arrangements. I can ride to London for a special license and you can scour Bath for the perfect dress."

"I can not just leave," she said, pulling herself from his arms. "What about the children?"

"What about them, Anne?"

"They are my responsibility. No," she said, shaking her head. "If you want to do this it has to be done properly."

"Properly?" he echoed.

"You have to approach Lord Brockhurst and ask," she stopped. Frederick had not been able to contain himself and had burst out into a harsh laugh. "What is it?"

"Ask Brockhurst for permission? Anne you're not," he looked at her and his face fell. "You are serious, aren't you?"

"I can not just run away Frederick. It would not be right."

"He'd never going to give permission for you to see me, let alone court you or marry you. Why do you think I'm sneaking about in the gardens?" he asked. "Lord Brockhurst let it be known quite clearly the other night that I have been denied entrance to the house. I am not even to be seen in your company."

She swallowed heavily. "I am sure, that if we explain the situation," she began, but Frederick was already shaking his head.

"Your Lord," he said with contempt, "Has made it quite clear to me that you are his property and that he has no intention of letting you escape from his grasp any time soon." He closed his eyes and let out a deep breath before opening them and looking right at her. "I love you Anne. I want you to be my wife. I want to sail off into the sunset with you. Spend the rest of my life with you."

"I do to," she replied, her eyes wet. "I can not just leave though. Please understand that. I can not go back on the commitment I made."

"You have made commitments before and never seen them through."

The harsh words escaped from his mouth and hung in the air between them. He watched the pain spark in her eyes before she turned from him.

"I'm sorry," he said.

She shook her head. "That is in the past. I am a different person now."

He reached up a hand and cupped the side of her face, using his thumb to swipe at a tear that trickled from her eye. "Not so different. Brave. Resilient. Strong. Beautiful." He chuckled as the cheek under his palm heated up. "Modest."

The smile on his face and the gleam in his eye set her heart alight.

"Come with me," he said suddenly, in a hushed voice. "Leave all this and come with me now."

She trembled at the intensity of his words and forced her eyes closed. How she wanted to do as he asked.

"I can not Frederick, please understand that."

The hand fell from her face. It and its mate grasped at her own.

"Anne. Look at me please." He asked. "Brockhurst is never going to let me see you, let alone give his permission for us to marry. He will keep you with him till he is bored with you, and you are an old maid. I worry about what will happen if I leave you here, even if it is just one more night."

"He would not," she tried to say but he held up her hands and spoke over her.

"He already has and this will only be the beginning. There is no doubt in my mind that my mother cared for my father very much, that much I know, but she did not love him. She used him as an escape from a household that cowered in fear of her father and his temper. He would start off with minor things, a slap here a smack there, till she was older and he took to full out beating her. That is what is going to happen here."

"It was an accident."

He let her hands drop. "You really believe that, don't you?"

It was a rhetorical question and she deigned not to answer though her heart screamed no. She wanted to speak with him, wanted to tell him that she was scared of the man ruled the house. To tell him she had heard whisperings of past servants and past events involving the Lord.

Instead she kept her mouth closed and hoped that she could talk him round to trying things her way.

"Anne. Please."

"I will not be persuaded from this Frederick." She said forcibly.

As soon as she spoke and realised what she had said, her hand flew to her mouth and a smothered gasp sounded.

He stared at her. His eyes were wide and realisation dawned. He laughed bitterly as his heart broke in two. "Nothing has really changed, has it?" he asked, taking a step back and shaking his head. "I should have known."

"Frederick," Anne pleaded, reaching for him. "Please. I didn't mean,"

"No!" he yelled, pulling out of her reach. "No," he repeated quieter. "I honestly though that maybe, that perhaps, if I spoke with you, made you understand both what he is like and who much I…that you would see things clearly and realise the danger you put yourself here. You say you have changed, that you are not the same person I knew all those years ago? Yet you are still looking for someone else to make the decision. If he said no what then Anne? Would you cut me lose again? Thank me and stab at my heart at the same time as you have done before?"

"Frederick."

"No more, Anne. I will not do this any more. Twice now I have offered you my heart and twice you have thrown it on the ground and stamped all over it. No more." His breathing came in short, sharp bursts as he thought to contain the emotions that were currently coursing through him. "I bid you good day ma'am and wish you the best for the future. Wherever it may take you."

And with that he left.

She stood where she was for a long while after he left. Tears ran freely down her cheeks and her heart ached in her chest. What cruel fate was this? To have found the one who completed her, who made her feel like herself again after all these years, only to lose him again after a poorly spoken choice of words.

It was not even that she wanted to stay here, to stay in the employment of a man whose very presence scared her, but she felt she had a duty to the children. The poor children who received no care from their mother and very little personal attention from their father. They needed someone to love them and she was currently the one to fill that role.

She shook her head and hastily wiped at the tears, purposefully ignoring the little voice inside her head that was asking, _"And who is going to love you?"_


	12. Chapter 12

_**A word of warning before we go any further with this story. This chapter is a little dark and depressing. It deals with some disturbing issues. I've attempted to portray these scenes in a way that seems right and fitting but I thankfully have no first hand knowledge of this stuff and am working with my imagination (its scary it can go to places like this) and things I've seen/read.**_

_**I'm a little bit nervous posting this. Its been a challenge to write and I often stopped to wonder why I was doing this. And I know she's a fictional character, but my apologies to Anne. I really didn't like doing this to her.**_

__

**I've never really begged for reviews before - asked for them, hinted for them, yes - but I am now. If there ever was any chapter where I needed (had to) know what you thought, then this is it. Please!**

* * *

The house seemed eerily quiet when she returned to it. Lucy was missing from the kitchen. In fact, she thought looking round, everyone was.

Ignoring the feeling of dread that settled over her, Anne made her way through the lower parts of the house. She had almost made it out into the main entrance hall when a hand shot out of the darkness and grabbed her roughly by the arm.

His eyes were wide and roving. His face was incandescent with rage. His body as tense as a coiled spring and his breathing was laboured and panting as though he had just run a long distance.

"I saw you!" he yelled, pushing her against the wall. "I told you, you where never to meet with him again. I warned you."

Anne shook her head. "Please my Lord, nothing is going on."

"It did not look like nothing to me. You were enjoying his touch like a common whore, giving herself to him to do as he please." As he spoke he trailed a hand down her face, then further down her neck and body, roughly caressing. He squeezed her thigh through her dress and Anne tried to inch away from him.

"He was merely saying goodbye, he's going. He wont be around anymore."

Every time he spoke she caught the distinguishable smell of stale alcohol on his breath, and the glint in his eye made her suspect that he had been doing more than drinking.

"Goodbye?" he spat, "When then Miss Elliot, I would like to say goodbye to you." And with that he lowered his mouth harshly to hers, biting at her lips and holding her in place as she squirmed against his ministrations. He released her, "What other favours do you bestow upon him? How about Hello? What about Thank you?"

"No, nothing."

"Liar!" he screamed "I am the Lord and Master of his house, anyone who lives under my roof, who is in my employ, belongs to me and they are here to serve me." He gabbed her and threw her in the direction of the door, "Go!"

She stumbled but kept her balance and made her way to the door and out of it. He was breathing down her neck the whole time, urging her onward and upwards, up the stairs and then higher as they came across the servants quarters and her room.

Seeing their destination and his unyielding intent to get there, she turned, facing him and slowly shook her head, pleading with him not to do this. She tried to stand her ground but he forced her back. Every step he took made her take a small one backwards until her back hit the door to her room.

Reaching round her, he turned the door knob and pushed her inside. As he turned and locked the door, turning the key so that the latch fell solidly into place, her fear grew and it suddenly hit her as to how hopeless her situation was.

Frederick had tried to warn her, had tried to convince her that he was this type of man but she just did not want to hear it. She had admitted that he could be a little heavy handed but he had never beat her like she had heard others did and for that reason she was glad.

Her breath was coming in small, sharp gasps and her eyes cast franticly round the room for another means of escape. There was none, as she well knew, but in that moment she could almost believe that she had overlooked something; a corner here, a staircase there. A trapdoor perhaps.

None appeared.

He turned, pocketing the key in his jacket pocket, which he preceded to hang on the hook to the right hand side of the doorway and advanced on her, rolling the sleeves of shirt up as he went. Anne backed up till her back hit the opposite wall. She closed her eyes as he came to stand directly in front of her, running a smoothly, but firmly, down the side of her face and round her neck.

"Please," she pleaded, swallowing heavily.

She could feel his breath on her face. She could smell the stale alcohol. The air around him sparked with tension and barely contained anger.

"Now Miss Elliot," he said as he looked over her. "I believe we had an agreement. Yet, I come home today only to find him in my own house!" He gradually raised his voice till he was screaming the last words at her.

"I couldn't," she started, her mouth suddenly dry. "He came by himself. I did not invite him, I would never."

The hand that had been caressing her throat suddenly tore away only to return seconds later as he backhanded her, the action so violent that she stumbled and fell to the floor clutching the side of her face. She opened her eyes and looked up at him then, only to wish she hadn't.

Wrapping a hand round her hair he dragged her to her feet and used his body to pin her to the wall. It was at that point she found her voice and began screaming for all she was worth. He merely threw his head back and laughed.

"No ones coming," he whispered harshly in her ear. His triumphant and smug tone scaring her more than the words themselves.

She balled her fists and attempted to fight him off, landing blows to his upper torso before he managed to get a hold of both of her wrists in one of his own hands, rising them above her head in a move that displayed more of her body to him.

The way he was looking at her, leering at her, made her shiver with disgust and she attempted to pull away from him again, but her efforts where in vain. He was stronger than her, bigger than her and she was simply no competition for him. Not that she was going to give in easily mind.

With his other hand he grabbed her face, squeezing painfully with his fore fingers and his thumb, forcing her to look at him before lowering his face to hers and kissing her harshly. It was enough to make her feel sick and she could taste the bile gathering at the back of her throat.

He broke off and trailed his mouth down her neck, biting the flesh and sinking his teeth painfully into her shoulder when she managed to connect a well aimed kick to his skin. He slapped her in the face, the crack of skin to skin echoing through the room, before taking a fist and ramming it into her stomach.

She fell to the ground, her arms wrapping round her waist as she struggled with the pain. Tears rolled down her face as he sat on the bed and began to remove his boots. Dropping them to the floor one by one. Each thud making Anne wince.

His shirt was next, cast to the floor followed by his breaches, leaving him in an undershirt and drawers.

She whimpered and pleaded with him again as he dragged her to her feet once more, his grip on her upper arms tight enough to leave a bruise.

When she resisted he backhanded her again, this time keeping a hold of the front of her dress to keep her upright before taking it in both of his hands and ripping it, pulling it down both of her arms and ordering her to step out of it. Shakily she did as she was asked, her head ringing from the previous blow, leaving her in her undergarments and stockings.

He brought a hand up and caressed her cheek, ignoring her flinch. He trailed his hand down her neck and her clavicle to her chest. She tried to take a step back but her wrapped an arm around her waist and pulled her to him forcefully.

"Does he do this?" he hissed, bringing a hand to her breast and squeezing. "Huh? Right here in this room, under my own roof?"

She shook her head violently; no, but he was off in his own deranged world. He used his knee this time to hit her in the stomach; again and again till she was sagging against him and he threw her onto the bed.

She lay there for a moment listening to her own harsh breathing and his own. She could here the anger in it. When he climbed on top of her something inside of her snapped to attention and became determined that she was not going to allow this to happen without a fight.

He used his weight against her but she lashed out at him with everything she had as he tore at the straps of her garments. Her hand connected with his face and she drug her nails down it, feeling the skin give way beneath them.

He screamed in fury then, gabbing her hand and twisting it in such a way that a loud snap was heard and she hollowed in pain, cradling the appendage to her body. He sat back on his hunches with a satisfied grin. The confidence was his downfall.

"I have no qualms about breaking more bones," he said, before his mouth descended on her flesh.

Using her other hand she reached out wildly to the table set beside her bed and the stone ornament that rested there. Gripping it firmly in her hand she swung it and it collided perfectly with his head. He slumped against her and it took all her strength and more to slide out from beneath him and on to her feet. He groaned as she did so, raising his own hand to his head and feeling the blood trickling down.

He raised his eyes to her as she fumbled with his jacket for the key to the door, a murderous expression filling them and with a roar he launched himself at her. Anne had managed to insert the key into the lock and open the door just before he did and sprinted off down the corridor and the steps before he could take more than two steps from the bed.

Reaching the top of the staircase she practically threw herself down them in an effort to get away. She knew exactly what would happen if she where caught.

She tripped and ended up tumbling down the last remaining steps, her head bouncing painfully off the marble floor leaving her stunned for a moment before she scrambled hastily to her feet. She cast a quick glance over her shoulder and saw him at the top of the staircase, the blood flowing steadily from the wound on his head. The wound she had caused and felt no compassion against causing.

"Stop her!"

The footman stationed at the front door had risen when he saw her bounding down the stairs, taking a couple of steps towards her when she fell. Her eyes locked with his when she stood and he gestured with his own to the servants door down into the kitchens before aiming a catch at her as she ran off. He purposely missed her by millimetres, his lunge carrying him past her and sliding into table set out at the foot of the stairs causing the contents to scatter.

Anne paid no heed to the sounds the falling items, nor the screams of outrage, as she ran down the small, narrow staircase into the kitchens and out of the back door. Her shoeless feet hit the ground running, ignoring the pain of the stones cutting into her feet and the wet of the grass as it soaked through her stockings. She only cared about getting as far away from the house as possible.

She headed towards the back of the garden where she knew a gate was located that opened out into the small lane behind the house. Reaching the gate she heard a shout from behind her. She pulled the latch from the gate and shoved, but nothing happened. Panicking that she was going to be caught and dragged back she put all of her weight behind another push, immediately grateful when the hinges gave way and the gate began to move.

The gate finally swung open allowing her to escape into the lane. She glanced left then right and then she ran.


	13. Chapter 13

_I want to thank everyone so much for their reviews of the last chapter. When I get a moment I'm hoping to answer them either privately or publicly over on the forum. As it is things have been going non stop for me and this is the first time I've been able to sit down and get round to doing a few of the things I really enjoy._

_I have no promises or guarantees on when the next chapter will be posted (I'm hoping in the next week/two weeks) and would like to thank you all for sticking with me. I know it cant be easy, and its certainly not nice of me to keep you hanging on like this._

_Since our beloved Ms Austen did not give him a name, I've decided to give Admiral Croft the first name of 'James'. I hope that's fine with everyone._

* * *

It was a long while before she stopped running at took a look around her, not immediately knowing where she was.

Having left the back garden of the Brockhurst house she had immediately taken a right, running as fast as her legs could carry her down the lane and out into the side street. Such was the time of day that there was hardly anyone about and she was able to make her way without any disturbances.

She weaved in and out of back streets and lanes for a long time and the dark of night had finally settled in before she finally stopped and looked about. The shadow cast buildings where unfamiliar to her but the street sign was not. She knew roughly where she was but that did not help her much when she did not know where she was going.

She was alone with no where to go and no one to turn too. Or did she?

They were the only people she really knew in Bath but after the argument she had had earlier on in the day with Frederick she doubted whether he would offer her any assistance. She had been foolish not to heed his warning and when he had left he had been ever so angry with her, and his parting words. She shivered; a mix of the cold and the way he had looked at her causing the action. There had been resentment and anger in his gaze, and horrible contempt.

Could she really go to him now?

She bit her lip, forgetting it was split open and flinching as the wound began to bleed again. She closed her eyes, took a deep breath and swallowed heavily. She could not stay where she was, that was certain, but would they even see her?

Perhaps if she could only get them to send her back to Uppercross, that would be enough.

Her legs protested at the movement as she began to walk again.

Gay street was not that far away.

* * *

Sophia Croft had declined the invitation to join her husband and others of his profession for a night of drinking, cards and other such habits, deciding to enjoy a quite night in where she might catch up with her correspondence and relax with a good book.

She did not hear the knock at the door but was alerted to the arrival of someone by the disturbance at the door anyway. Curiosity as to who might be calling at this time of night lead her mark her place in the book she was reading, place it down on the couch and head to the front door.

When she arrived there all she could see was the back of the ever ready footman, James Edwards. Edwards had come with the place and was recommended to her by the tenant they rented the property from, he had been in service at the same house for over ten years and was extremely good at his job.

"Edwards?" Sophia asked as she came up behind him.

He held the door partially open and was speaking to whoever it was beyond, through the small opening.

"I'm telling yah," he said, having not heard his mistress behind him. "We don't want your sort round here, clear off."

Sophia heard a muffled sound from beyond the door but the person on the other side spoke too softly for her to hear what they where saying.

"I doubt the likes o' Captain Wentworth would want a note from you. He don't associate with women like you."

"Please?" Sophia heard.

Edwards moved to close the door when she laid a hand upon his arm and asked what the problem was.

"Nothing ma'am," he said. "Just some woman got the wrong house."

The door was almost shut when the woman on the other side made one finally attempt. "Mrs Croft!"

Sophia paused, it sounded like, "Edwards open the door."

The man did not hesitate and the door was opened to reveal the scantily clad, bare footed woman at the foot of the steps leading up to the house.

"Anne!" she gasped, and the young woman promptly burst into tears. Sophia hurried down the steps and gathered Anne into her arms as the young woman finally fell apart after all that had occurred. Sophia hushed her as best she could and lead her up the steps and into the house.

"Edwards, send somebody out to fetch a doctor and get Molly up to the guest room to prepare a bath"

It was done as she asked, and she lead the trembling, shaking figure slowly up the stairs to the first floor and along the hall to the guest bedrooms. Anne could not stop the tears and merely clung to Mrs Croft like a lifeline, totally unaware of what was going on around her but aware on some conscious level that she was safe now.

Mrs Croft sat her on the bed and gently took Anne's face in her hands, looking carefully and coolly at the various marks and bruises that covered it before pulling the woman closer to her and enveloping her in her embrace.

The knock at the door startled them both; Anne practically jumped a foot in the air before Sophy was able to convince her everything was alright. "Come in."

Molly, the young maid and two of the other servants came in carrying the large steel tub and placed it by the fire. While Molly saw to the towelling sheets and other necessities a steady stream of servants came in with buckets of warm water, placing another two over the rooms own fire, which they had set up and left them to simmer.

"Ma'am," Molly said, standing at the door. "Edwards was asking whether you want Admiral Croft sent for?"

"Please."

Anne's cries had ceased but she still shook and trembled like a new born lamb yet to find its feet. Sophy used the time they sat waiting on the doctor to subtly checking the other woman for injuries. Her body was covered in cuts, bruises and scratches, and Sophy felt her blood boil. Anne winced when the other woman's hand came in contact with her right wrist, pulling the arm away and cradling it close to her own chest.

Molly returned to the room with a bowl of warm water, several strips of cloth and some diluted iodine, placing them on the small table by the bed before going and checking on the bath.

Sophy disentangled herself from Anne, though remained as close as possible and set about dipping the pieces of cloth in the mixture of water and iodine and held it up to Anne's face.

"This may sting a little," she said as she gently wiped it across Anne's face, clearing away the dirt, blood, sweat and tears that had accumulated and disinfecting the whole area.

The antiseptic mixture did its job well and Anne felt the solution tingle as it was applied across her face, a stinging sensation when it came in contact with an open area on her skin or when the delicate, featherlike touch of Mrs Croft grazed over a rapidly forming bruise.

Her whole body ached and on several occasions she felt herself drift. Her eyelids would drop and she would sway before pulling her self back awake. There was nothing more she wanted to do than curl up under the covers and go to sleep with the hope that this no all some bad dream but knew she had to go through this procedure, just as she knew this was not some terrible nightmare.

"I'm sorry," Anne said, her eyes closed against the tender care she could see flooding from Sophia Crofts gaze.

"For what, sweetheart?"

Anne flinched as the warm cloth came in contact with her lip. "For imposing on you."

Sophy held Anne's face gently, but firmly in her hands and stopped what she was doing, waiting for the young woman to open her eyes and look at her. When she finally did, Sophy said, "Don't be ridiculous. I would be extremely upset and angry if you did not come here," she titled Anne's chin when she looked away and gently forced her to look at her. "Friends do not impose on friends, especially in circumstances such as this."

Anne's eyes filled with tears again as she struggled to keep her emotions in check.

Another knock at the door and again Anne jumped, though not as much as before. The door opened slowly and Molly entered, a short, round man calmly following her in. The black leather bag he carried a sure sign of his profession.

"Doctor," Mrs Croft said in greeting. She turned to Anne. "This is Dr Stevenson. Do you mind if he has a look at you?"

Anne regarded the doctor wearily. There was something in his expression and they way his eyes looked kindly at her that she trusted but after the events of tonight, she was still a little hesitant. She nodded her agreement.

She gripped Sophy's hand tight as the other woman rose. "Stay."

Anne may have given her consent for him to examine her, but she was not confident enough to be left alone with him, no matter how much she truly believed he was here to help her.

Sophy looked over at the doctor gaining his approval before she patted Anne's hand. "I'll be right over there," she said, motioning to the chair in the corner of the room where she was far enough away as to not be in the way, but at the same time close enough so that Anne knew that she was not abandoning her.

The doctor was kind and caring (as all doctors should be) but Anne could not help flinching and pulling from his grip now and then. To his credit he did not mention it but was gentle, through and quick.

"How is she?" Mrs Croft asked as soon as they exited the room. She took her place next to the Admiral and he wrapped an arm around her shoulder, pulling her close to him and letting him lean on him for support. She felt exceedingly drained.

"Her injuries, though severe, are not as bad as I first thought," the doctor said. "By far the worst is her broken wrist. I've set the bone and bandaged it up but I'll need to see her over the course of the next couple of weeks to see that its healing properly. I'm more concerned about her feet though."

"Her feet?"

The doctor sighed. "She has obviously had a traumatising night and fled from whoever did this too her, paying no heed to the fact that she was bare foot. Her feet as all cut up and imbedded with various foreign bodies that will have to be removed before the cause an infection."

Sophy nodded. "I'm going to help her bathe, I'll make sure her feet are well cleaned." She paused and pondered over whether she should ask the next question. "Was she, was there any indication of?" She let the unfinished question hang but had a feeling all around knew what it was she was trying to ask.

The doctor shook his head. "I asked and she answered no. She was uncomfortable with my being there and I did not want to cause her any further agitation so I did not conduct a thorough assessment. I tend to believe her though, even when her injuries suggest differently, but perhaps she will be more comfortable talking to a woman about it."

"I think you are right," Sophy said. "Thank you doctor."

He nodded, "I'll be back tomorrow morning to check on her."

The Crofts remained in the hallway as the doctor was lead out of the house by one of the servants.

"Has she said anything?" the Admiral asked in a hushed tone.

Sophy shook her head, "She hasn't said much at all. Oh James." She buried her head in his shoulder and his arms came up around her, providing her the comfort that she needed. They held onto one another for a while.

"You go and take care of Miss Anne," the Admiral said, letting her go slowly. "I will go and see if I can track down Frederick."

* * *

Frederick was at that point downing another drink in a well known establishment in the centre of Bath. He sat alone in the corner, kept company by only the fire to his left and the tankard he drank from. Ale had never been a favourite of his, but it served its purpose tonight.

His temper had gotten the better of him earlier on that day and he regretted it. But he did not regret his warnings. There was something not right with that man and it pained him to think that Anne could be in danger from him. It pained him even more that she had refused to listen to him and heed his warning.

If he was to be entirely honest with himself, it was hurting him more that she had not seen fit to escape with him there and then. He had thought that they had come to some sort of understanding during the conversation, where she was aware of his feelings towards her and he to hers. His heart had soared when she had looked at him, a smile on her face and love in her eyes.

Then it had all come crashing down just like it had all those years ago and he had invariably lost his temper with her. The hurt that he thought he was over, it being eight years old, resurfaced and fuelled the fire of his anger leading him to say many things he really did not mean.

He took a hand and rubbed it over his forehead. He'd created a mess, that's for sure. And he was not sure how he was going to fix it.

He paid no heed when the door swung open but his ears caught the conversation that started.

"No youngsters lad, out with yeh," the bar keep said.

"I'm looking for someone."

"They're aint nothing for you here lad. Go home before your mother begins to worry about yeh,"

The young boy paid no attention to him however and continued to look around the small, smoke filled room. His gaze finally settled on the far corner that Frederick was settled in, "Captain Wentworth!" the voice said and Frederick raised his head, and came face to face with Henry Harrison.

Before the boy could his mouth, a hand came out from behind and gripped him on the arm. "Sorry about the disruption Captain. I'll see to it that 'e's escorted out." the bar keep said as he began to drag Henry away.

Frederick shook his head, "Leave him please," and he flicked a coin at the man, "For the hassle."

"Aye sir," the man said, releasing Henry and making a grab for the coin. "I'll leave yous be."

The bar keep left them alone in silence. Henry looked as pleased as can be that he had found the man he was looking for, Frederick merely looked curious as to why the lad had tracked him down and how he managed to do it.

"Well Master Henry," he began, taking another drink, "What brings you to me tonight?"

"Its Miss Anne, Captain. She's gone."

"Gone?" Frederick queried. He tried to act indifferent on the outside, though his stomach began to churn and he felt a certain amount of unease at the boy's words.

"Lord Brockhurst is stalking about saying he caught her with a man and that they ran away together, but I don't believe him sir. Miss Anne wouldn't do something like that. Rumour has it the Master chased her from the house himself. I cant find her sir," Henry began to stumble over his words the further he got into his story. "I've looked everywhere."

"She hasn't returned to the house?"

"Old William says she didn't look good when she ran out of there." He looked up at Frederick, "I'm worried something's happened to her."

Frederick pondered a while. It certainly did not sound like something Anne would do, she had never been one to run from something, but should he get involved? She had told informed him quite clearly that afternoon that she no longer wanted him in her life. Henry was sitting across from him with such a hopeful and eager expression on his face that he sighed. He set his tankard down on the table along side a coin, "Lets go."


End file.
